


Obscura Rasa

by nyxocity



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 16:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 127,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15343893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxocity/pseuds/nyxocity
Summary: Jensen is a man on the run from his past and the strange ability he possesses to see other people’s memories. Jared is the seemingly perfectly normal owner of a night club in Washington DC called the Hall of Doors. Jensen rents an apartment above the club on a temporary basis, and through an encounter with a mysterious stranger with powers like his own, finds himself embarked on a quest for answers to what he is. Jensen and Jared begin to fall for each other against Jensen’s better instincts, and along with their friends, find themselves pulled into a secret world filled with perils and more questions than answers. Through back alleys, clubs, magical places and spaces between worlds, Jensen discovers what he is and becomes hunted by otherworldly creatures, including one terrifying adversary bent on destroying reality as they know it. Jensen may be the only one with the power defeat them, but true power always comes with a price, and the cost may be Jensen’s life—or something far, far worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Art by Nisaki-Chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and) (@nisaki-chan on tumblr) - Beta by Silver9mm

[ ](https://ibb.co/dnrMmy)

**Prologue**

 

The remains of an industrial building rose up around him, concrete walls cracked and crumbling where they met the night sky. Overhead, the moon was full and wide, bloated and ugly and so close he could hear it singing to itself. Beneath his feet was a sea of glass, jagged, fractured shards in myriad colors, and from all around came the smell of decay; black, rotting death that called to him. There was another scent layered beneath that, something familiar… known. He fell to one knee, planting his hand in glass to the wrist, tilted his head and sniffed the air. There, in the far corner of the building, atop a tiny island of concrete that rose from the sea, was the body of a man cocooned in gray.

He crossed to him across the tiny ocean of frozen waves, a million edges refracting vicious light. Glass crunched like the chitinous shells of insects, pieces grinding and whining as they shattered and slid until they finally fell away beneath his heel. Above, the moon had ceased its singing, muttering to itself in a language made of time and secrets, and he could sense it watching. He moved from its light, stepped into shadow, and knelt.

The homeless man was wrapped in a colorless blanket like a cocoon, a caterpillar that would never be a butterfly. The man couldn't harm him, as ineffectual as the shards of glass were; the man's fear so thick he could nearly taste it.

He bent down, whispering as he touched the man's face. "You only have one thing left to take."

He paused, hearing the silent man speak.

"No. I can't let you go."

He waited, listening.

And then he leaned in close, lips painting whispered words against the man's ear. "I am death."

All around him, the air began to catch fire.

  


**Chapter One**

Jensen shook his hair back from his face and cut his eyes up at the night sky. Miles from here, against the same dark sky, Washington DC's monuments and low, sprawling buildings cut even darker silhouettes, blazing with lights so bright they blot out the stars. He could imagine them all too easily; majestic and sleek and so far from where he was that they seemed alien, unreachable and unfathomable. Their light didn't reach where he was parked along concrete sidewalks on paved streets caught between tall gray buildings, fluorescent street lights illuminating everything in pale, flat shades.

It was a strange introduction to the city he'd imagined, the one he'd seen pictures of in books and magazines all his life. He switched on the interior light, obscuring his vision of the outside world for a moment. Reaching across the seat, he dug into his backpack, finding his worn, black leather wallet with practiced fingers and flipped it open, thumb sliding inside the ID slot and pulling out his driver's license. The man in the photo had his face, but he had brown hair and brown eyes utterly unlike the ash blonde hair and aqua contacts he'd been wearing the past few months.

"We had a good run, Kerr," he told the license, "but Philly was the end of the line."

He set it down on the dash and reached for the wooden box next to his backpack. Pulling it up into his lap, he unlatched the lid and rifled through various "official documents" until he reached the stack of licenses. There he was as John Crichton, Richard Decker, and half a dozen others, his hair varying lengths and an array of colors, eyes running the spectrum from light blue to dark brown. At the bottom, he found the one he wanted. His hair was short, natural, dirty blond with highlights, eyes their normal jade green, and he looked a few years younger than he was now, but it was unmistakably him: his lightly tanned skin, his real hair, his real eyes. And troubled and humorless as his smile might have been in the flat light of the photo, there was a measure of comfort in seeing his real self. The name on the card wasn't his, but it belonged to him, anyway, in a way the others didn't.

He ran his thumb over the name along the bottom of the card and then slid it into plastic ID slot in his wallet, closing it and returning it to its pocket inside his backpack.

He flicked off the interior light, hands rising to rub his face, and then sighed, fingertips trailing down from his forehead across his cheekbones, falling away from the point of his chin. He was going to need money. Somewhere along these city streets, there must have been a place he could set up shop, take people's hands in his or flip a few cards and tell them their future. He would figure something out tomorrow.

He tossed the license reading Kerr Avon inside the box and shut the lid.

  


* * *

The day was breezy, bitter edge to the fall wind that promised winter would be here soon. It teased at the edge of the cloth thrown across the flimsy card tables set up along the sidewalk, Rajeet's handmade metal jewelry taking up the majority of their length, copper-colored necklaces and silver-hued beaten bracelets arranged in neat rows right next to the narrow section Rajeet had let him rent for a thirty dollar deposit and fifteen percent take. He didn't need much space to read palms or perform tarot card readings, though the breeze had made card readings a bit of a nuisance. Honestly, though, he'd thought his appearance would have given him more trouble.

He knew how he looked; hair shoulder length ash blond streaked with purple, heavy black eyeliner, dressed in his fitted, well-worn black motorcycle jacket over a violently purple and black tiger-striped tank top. People noticed you when you look like a gothic punk rocker guy, but they tended to give you two looks at most and then look away, and they never remembered your face—just your clothes and your hair. That was useful, given the life he led. Still, the clients he'd done readings for today hadn't seemed to mind a bit. Maybe the people in this city just expected psychics to look eccentric.

The woman that sat across from him at the moment was in her mid-forties or so, dark-haired and dressed in a bright green frock coat that wasn't doing much to keep her warm, based on the way she shivered. The woman's details were taken in with a brief glance and then he looked down, keeping his eyes focused on his own hands.

"So you're really psychic?" the woman asked.

It was the million dollar question, the one most people asked sooner or later. He'd met a lot of people in his time that called themselves psychic, but he'd never met anyone else who seemed like the real thing. Still, to call yourself a psychic meant you have to have a grand backstory ready, whether it was true or not.

"From a long line of psychics," he assured the woman. He told the brief story of Isabelle, his great-great-grandmother, and how she'd carried the gift of sight to the United States from Europe at the tender age of sixteen, passing it down through the generations of her family to present day. Not a word of it was true, but it seemed to satisfy the woman's curiosity and set her more at ease. Enough at ease to hand over thirty-five dollars for a palm reading.

"What's your name?" he asked the woman and smiled as he smoothed a few wrinkles from the tablecloth.

"Shouldn't you know?" the woman asked, uncertain.

He smiled again, eyes glancing off the other woman's. "I'm not that kind of psychic. I read the stories hands and cards tell me. Unfortunately, they're not specific enough to tell me a name."

It wasn't exactly the truth. But like most things in his life, it was a lie built on truth, and that made it more convincing.

"Gloria," the woman said, after a moment. And then, hesitant, she asked, "What's yours?"

He paused for a few long seconds, and then finally replied, "Jack."

_ Jack _ , he thought.  _ That's who I am. That's my name now. _

"Gloria, may I see your left hand, please?"

Gloria extended her left hand, and Jensen steeled himself as he reached out to take it, fingers just barely brushing the other woman's skin. An image flared instantly to life, expected and as welcome as it could be, crystallizing inside his mind with the touch of skin to skin.

_ // Gloria is a vision in frothy white, eyes brighter and years younger, a handsome, smiling man at her side. They're surrounded by the scent of roses, sterling silver and white for enchantment and unity. Her heart beats too fast and he catches her hand in his, squeezing as they exit the church, sound of bells filling the air. // _

The image held, scent filling his mind, and then memories flipped forward like the pages of a book, shuffling through time.

_ // Years later and she is alone, fingers bare, the scent of roses never as sweet. // _

It was difficult not to feel the pain, not to experience it as if it were his. He could feel the dull, empty ache in Gloria's heart, the bittersweet emotions tied around her memories. His name was Roger, and he'd smiled like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, smelled of sweet cologne and called her 'Sugar'. Pumpkin and cinnamon and the scent of fall leaves in the air, the taste of honey on their tongues, all swirled together with the passing of a tiny cart train and his laughter on the wind.

Jensen bit down on the inside of his cheek with an effort, trying to control the tailspin of his own heart. They were intertwined in a way strangers never should be, Jensen the only one aware of it at all; an intruder in someone else's mind who knew things he had no right to know, feeling things he'd never felt.

It wasn't that different than what other so-called fortune tellers did, though they looked for physical cues to inform their 'predictions' of the future. Jensen just had the ability to actually see what was important to people. It was fraudulent and invasive and he hated it, loathing rising up and snarling around the flow of Gloria's memories, marring the emotion for a moment before he got it back under control. Steady; he had to be steady and make sure he did this right. As much as he abhorred it, it unfortunately paid the bills, and he didn't want to upset Gloria.

He traced his fingertip along the lines on Gloria's palm and told her she'd find love and marry again, that she'd continue to achieve success in her professional field, and live an unusually long life. Gloria seemed happy and satisfied as she left, tucking her handbag under her arm and walking southward. Jensen watched the woman fade into the distance, wondering if anything he'd told Gloria was likely to come true. He hoped so.

The day passed, and he read for a few more clients. Spare time between readings was spent looking through the rental ads in the Washington Post newspaper he'd picked up that morning, and his disheartenment increased as he ended up crossing out one ad after another. When the sun began to sink low in the sky, backlighting the buildings in pink and throwing their shapes into long, dark shadows that filled the street, he tucked his hand sanitizer and his tarot deck into the inside pocket of his motorcycle jacket and paid Rajeet twenty-three dollars. Considering all Rajeet had had to do was tighten up the inventory on his tables to make room for him, he figured it wasn't a bad deal.

Rajeet was an Indian man who was fifty if he was a day, dark eyes as bright and sharp as someone half his age, short, wavy black hair just beginning to go gray at the temples. He was whipcord thin with fingers more nimble and coordinated than a gymnast's performance from what he'd seen, and he guessed they'd have to be, to hand make all that metal jewelry. He seemed as comfortable in his own skin as he was in his worn blue flannel shirt as he regarded Jensen with a curious look of appraisal.

"Maybe next time you'll tell me my fortune," Rajeet said and chuckled as he counted the money into his cash box. He might have been a little skeptical of Jensen's abilities, but Jensen knew an offer when he heard one.

"Day after tomorrow?" he asked.

"Long as you show up." Rajeet gave an easy shrug.

He was bending down to pick up his newspaper when Rajeet spoke up again.

"You looking for a place to rent?" he asked, gesturing at the newspaper.

He must have seen Jensen going through the rental ads.

"Maybe." Jensen shrugged, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind his ear with his free hand. "Everything in the paper is too expensive."

"Bet your ass it is," Rajeet agreed. "Try Craigslist. Find good places there sometimes. Scary ones, too. The bulletin boards in the shops around town have places sometimes, too. Some of those are even scarier. But occasionally…" he trailed off, tilting his head from one side to the other as if to say 'you might get lucky'.

Jensen's laptop had finally wheezed its last breath and died in Philadelphia, and he'd ditched his burner phone on the way to DC, so Craigslist was out unless he could find a library or another place with internet access. But the bulletin boards might be worth checking out.

"Thanks, Rajeet."

"Welcome." He nodded. "See you, blondie."

  


* * *

Over the next few days, he alternated between looking for an apartment and doing readings on his tiny slice of Rajeet's tables.

On the first day, he visited a hole in the wall sub shop that looked like a Building Inspector's nightmare. Dubious, he had ordered a club sandwich sub and sifted through the flyers and ads on the bulletin board while he waited. He left with a promising ad and one of the most delicious subs he'd ever had the pleasure of eating. The room advertised turned out to be a large closet he could probably fit a bed into and not much else, and he would be shocked except this wasn't the first time he'd shown up to a glorified closet advertised as a bedroom. An ad from a corner store grocery panned out a bit better; the apartment was an efficiency unit, as advertised, but unfortunately, nothing could have ever hoped to break up the unholy union between its carpet and the stench of cat urine.

On the third day, he only found one ad that seemed worth checking out. It was a small basement apartment with seventies style, speckled aqua tile covering the floor, and even if he could have ignored the obvious water damage, he couldn't have ignored the sound of rats scurrying inside the walls. He'd heard rambunctious puppies that made less noise. And possibly, those puppies had been smaller.

Day five was a necessary laundry day, and he wasn't expecting to do much looking at rentals.

He found the apartment listing on a flyer in the local laundromat, obscured behind increasingly obnoxious colored flyers advertising child care and dog walking services amongst various nightclub announcements, and one particularly memorable flyer that promised an unimaginable eternity of pain and hellfire and all manner of suffering before asking in huge, bold print if he had found Jesus yet, and if not, why was he waiting? He pondered the question for a moment, listening to clothes and something that sounded roughly the size of a small child clunking over and over in the dryers, and decided that this level of scare tactic advertising deserved an answer. He slung his backpack around to the front, unzipping the top and digging through the inside pocket, pushing aside his car keys and wallet, fingers fumbling past a few crumpled receipts before they closed around a black Sharpie marker.

The aroma of dryer sheets and fabric softener permeated the air as he considered the flyer, taking in its truly hideous fluorescent red color, and then began to write out a reply in the bottom margin. He was just finishing up the little smiley face at the end of his sentence when he noticed the plain white edge of another flyer sticking out beneath the one he was writing on. He realized his mistake, then, and lifted the fluorescent red flyer up, trying to see how badly he'd defaced the one beneath.

He could still read it well enough through the spotty bleed-through of his writing.  **Apartment for Rent! Affordable Rate!** It proclaimed in big, blocky letters. And below that, in slightly less dramatic print:  **1 Bedroom, 1 Full Bath apartment for rent above business. Living room opens to small, full kitchen with a dine-in counter separator. Netflix and utilities included with rent. PLEASE NOTE: Business keeps late night hours. Vampires and other sunrise sleepers preferred. Rent price and complimentary coffins negotiable** .

At the very bottom was the address and other pertinent details. Wondering what untold horrors might await him, he folded up the flyer and tucked it into his back pocket.

  


* * *

A few hours later, he found a parking spot not far down the street from where his map said the address should be, his car smelling of freshly dried clothes, dryer sheet scent wafting through the tightly packed canvas bags in the backseat. He tilted the rearview mirror down and combed hasty fingers through his hair, strands smoothing into place, the bulk of his hair brushed to one side, the underneath shaved close to his skull. The purple streaks had begun to fade, and his sandy blond roots were peeking out, but his aqua colored contacts were fine, and with a few nudges of his fingertips, his eyeliner was back in place.

He decided he looked slightly less like he'd slept in his car last night and made his way down the block, trying to find the number 1741 on the buildings. It was a task that proved to be challenging in an old business district like this one, and he had to walk back and forth past it a few times to be certain he had the right place. It was actually two narrow buildings, not just one; two buildings with a brick wall about seven feet across that rose up between plate glass to divide them. There was an old-fashioned wooden door at the base of the brick wall that looked ancient compared to the modern glass windows, and seemed archaic alongside the glass doors that were clearly meant to be the business entrances. And the business was…

It was a nightclub.

He'd been hoping for something with a little less clientele coming and going—maybe an adult store, or even a late night restaurant—something low profile. He was debating walking away, folding up the flyer in his hands, when the name of the place caught his attention:  _ Hall of Doors _ . He eyed the decorative wooden door set in the middle of club and wondered if it was anywhere near as interesting on the inside as it sounded. From what little he could see with the daylight slanting on the windows, the inside seemed fairly clean and respectable enough, and if the owner of the club also owned the apartment, maybe the apartment wasn't so bad. It wasn't as if he had any other options.

He sighed and walked to one of the glass doors, knuckles rapping sharply against it. The ad had said to stop by anytime between 4PM to 7PM, and last he'd checked he was well within that time frame. While he waited, he reminded himself to maintain eye contact with the person who answered. He usually tried not to look at people for too long as a habit, but in situations like these, it was necessary, especially since there wasn't always something else to focus on.

As it turned out, focusing on the person who opened the door was no problem at all.

He was white with lightly tanned skin, eyes hazel behind a dark fringe of lash, and a nose that came to a fine point above full, lush lips. His face was so finely chiseled into angles it might have been carved by an artist's exacting hand, and fine lines crinkled beneath his eyes when he smiled at Jensen. He had to be six and a half feet tall, wearing a black 311 concert t-shirt that looked two sizes too small for his wide shoulders and broad chest, clinging all the way down his narrow waist to his jean-clad hips. His jeans were snug enough through the knees that they didn't leave much to the imagination, either, and he wasn't massive by any means, but he was superbly built. His hair was long; a rich shade of brown that hung down slightly past his jawline, lighter at the ends.

"You're here about the apartment," he said, and his voice was pleasantly deep, just an edge of grit to it.

Jensen blinked and then glanced down at the flyer in his hands, unfolding the creases. "Yeah, I found this ad at the laundromat."

The man caught the edge of the flyer between his fingertips, tugging it away and turning it toward him to look.

"That's my ad, but… " he squinted, focusing on the page as he continued, "This says, 'I… have accepted vodka as my personal savior'?" he asked, as if he weren't certain he was reading Jensen's Sharpie bleed correctly.

"It does say that," Jensen agreed, nodding.

"I'm pretty sure I didn't include that on the original flyer… although I'm intrigued," the man added, a smile playing about his lips, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"There was this hellfire flyer," Jensen began, trying to decide how to proceed.

"Oh," the man said, brows rising, eyes widening with recognition. "The hellfire flyer." He nodded, chuckling. "Yeah, that one's making the rounds. All fire and brimstone and why haven't you found Jesus yet?"

Jensen bit his lower lip and twisted out a smile. "Because 'I have accepted vodka as my personal savior'."

It took the man a moment; his head tilting slightly, a frown line marring his brow—and then Jensen could see it click for him. "And you wrote that on the… and then you found my…" His laugh was surprised and pleased as he threw back his head. "Oh, that's good."

A moment later, he offered his hand to Jensen, smile still playing about his lips. "I'm Jared Padalecki."

"I'm Jack. Jack Less," Jensen replied, and the name still felt odd in his mouth, his tongue not used to the sound, but it didn't feel as strange as some of the other names he'd used. He reached for Jared's hand an instant later, mental shields rising up strong in anticipation.

"Interesting name," Jared commented, training those hazel eyes on him, palm fitting against his, warm and solid. He had a million kilowatt smile that could rival the sun, and Jensen let his hand linger in Jared's just a few seconds too long. When it seemed like Jared was never going to be bothered enough to do anything about it himself, he cleared his throat and pulled back, still feeling the warmth of Jared's skin against his palm as he tucked it into his jacket pocket.

Still standing in the open doorway, Jared leaned sideways against the door, holding it open with his body and lifted a hand in the direction of the inside of the club.

"Enter freely and of your own will," Jared invited him with a smile.

"You're really playing up this whole vampire angle, aren't you?" he asked, unable to keep from smiling back.

"Oh, you're a fellow horror fan?" Jared returned, sounding mildly impressed as he stepped inside.

"When I was a kid," Jensen allowed with a nod, trying to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light inside.

"And then what happened?" Jared asked as the door swung shut behind them.

"I grew up." Jensen shrugged.

Jared hummed as if he were thinking that over, or possibly cataloguing it away for later, and then walked past Jensen toward the bar, motioning for him to follow.

The open room was long and narrow, with ceilings so high he wondered if the whole second level had been torn out. The floors were chestnut brown laminate patterned like hardwood, the walls painted rich yellow ochre lit warmly by well-spaced wall sconces. Small ceiling lamps hung over the round tables surrounded by cushioned chairs, their light just bright enough to be inviting, and the whole room had a comfortable, easy feel to it. It was nice, cozy, but it would be otherwise unremarkable if it weren't for the décor.

From the floor to as high as he could see, there were life-sized doors hung upon the walls. No, not hung, he realized, but set  _ into _ the walls, as if the hinges on them might actually work and open to the other side of the wall. They were lit individually and well-spaced, each one hung at a slightly differing angle, and every single one of them was different. Old-fashioned and carved with detail he could just begin to make out from his distance, each with a unique metal knob and patterned plate over a skeleton keyhole.

Some of the doors were round at the top, or peaked, some were squared; some were wide and others incredibly narrow. They were all surrounded by equally intricate trim, further adding to the illusion of them being real, and each one was painted its own color, flattering hues of crimson, rust, yellow, and rich brown a perfect complement to the yellow ochre walls. There were even doors set into the ceiling at skewed angles, lights dropped down from the ceiling and aimed up to highlight them without making them garish or overwhelming. One particular door was even sectioned seamlessly to transition from the ceiling across the ceiling trim to the wall, its knob set into the diagonal section where it met the trim. Another was actually open just a fraction with what must have been fake red ivy growing out in patterns along the wall.

Jensen was drawing breath to comment when they reached the bar, and Jared beat him to the punch.

"It's something, huh?" Jared asked, eyes traveling wall to ceiling with pride.

"I've never seen anything like it," Jensen admitted.

The bar was rather remarkable, itself. There were two wide archways cut into the walls separating the buildings, beginning outside the bar and ending on the inside on each side. The bar continued around through the archways, and he imagined it probably wrapped all the way around the other side. The archways were wide enough for people to pass back and forth on the outside of the bar, and wide enough on the inside that bartenders could travel from one side of the bar to the other in a complete circuit. It was fashioned out of dark wood that matched the shade of the floor, highly polished and lit with the same warm light as the tables. Behind it, shallow shelves the same shade rose upward and inward like stairs, liquor bottles of every size and color adorning them, and he thought the other side must be a mirror image of this one.

A woman walked around from the other side of the bar, her head tilted at a curious angle until she saw them.

"I thought I heard you talking to someone," the woman said in Jared's direction as she walked toward them. "I'm Alicia," she added, by way of introduction to Jensen. "I work the bar here."

"I'm Jack."

Alicia was black, her skin a very dark shade of brown, and she was tall with a toned, muscular build. She had light brown eyes that were flecked with a stunning shade of gold, and her long dark hair, streaked with deep red, was woven into braids that trailed half the length of her back. Her eyes tilted slightly upward at the outside, incredibly long, thick lashes feathering up along the angle, nose wide and softly rounded at the tip just above lips that were wide and full and painted burgundy. She was wearing a black fitted tee that showed just the barest hint of cleavage, the small silver logo of a door with the edges of doors spiraling away into the distance behind it printed just above her heart, and skin-tight dark blue jean leggings that showed off the muscles in her legs.

"You here about the apartment?" Alicia asked. She moved with confidence and ease to lean on the bar, thin silver chain swinging forward from her breastbone with the movement.

"I'm here to have a look, anyway."

"Well, don't let him talk you into paying more than it's worth," Alicia said and smiled with a tilt of her head in Jared's direction. "He's a sweet talker, this one, pretty enough to get away with it, too."

"Is he?" Jensen asked and shot an amused glance in Jared's direction before looking back to Alicia.

"How do you think I ended up working here?" Alicia shot back with a smirk. "Speaking of which," she went on, pushing up from the bar, "I'd better get back to it."

"Nice meeting you," Jensen said, smiling, and Alicia nodded before she moved on her way.

Jensen leveled his gaze on Jared, squinting at him. "So is that true?"

"What, me being a sweet talker? Or being pretty enough to get away with it?"

Jensen nodded to indicate both, and Jared shrugged in unabashed agreement, palms turned upward, brows rising, like it was all true and there was nothing he could say. Jensen chuckled, shaking his head, and then sent a sidelong glance to where Alicia was prepping the bar for the coming crowd.

"Are you two…" He looked back to Jared, uncertain.

"Together?" Jared finished for him. "No. I'm extremely single, in case you were wondering," he added and gave Jensen one of his dazzling smiles.

"Good for you," Jensen replied in a tone of voice that implied the thought hadn't occurred to him.

Jared laughed, a good-natured sound that echoed off the walls of the empty room.

"So you're new to DC?" Jared asked, and when Jensen nodded, he continued. "Know anything about U Street?"

"Should I?" he asked, curious.

"Not particularly," Jared replied and leaned one elbow against the bar, his weight resting easily upon it. "It's just this area—this whole city, really—holds a lot of history. U Street in particular has been through a lot of changes."

Jensen looked at him, waiting for him to go on, and Jared began to warm to the subject.

"It was predominantly white middle class until the turn of the century, lots of service businesses. Then it became a thriving area for African American business and entertainment. In the twenties, this area was known as Black Broadway. Some of the most famous African American singers, blues and jazz players performed here—Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong. Later, it was home to some of the most influential African Americans in the struggle for equal rights."

Jared sobered, then, and paused. "In the aftermath of the 1968 riots, the neighborhood went downhill, drugs dealers, crime. That went on through the 1970's and 80's." He took a breath and made a slight motion with one hand. "It wasn't until the 90's when the community started trying to revitalize the area. They built the Metro out here, put in more bus stops and the Bikeshare, the Department of Housing and Urban Development donated a ton of money…" Jared trailed off and made an etcetera, etcetera gesture. "Fast forward to today, and now it's home to some of the best soul-food and Caribbean restaurants, amazing jazz and the most famous clubs in the city. For the record," he added with a chagrined smile, "this place isn't one of them. But we do pretty well."

Jensen chuckled and Jared cleared his throat, continuing, "Anyway… My grandfather bought these two buildings a couple years after the riots. Real estate was cheap and he had an idea that U Street might bounce back, that it might eventually be a prime spot for his small business."

"What did he do?" Jensen asked.

Jared gestured at the room they were standing in. "He made doors. He did door sales, service and installation, frames and hardware, other stuff you don't care about. But mostly, he loved making doors. And he made  _ a lot of them _ ," Jared emphasized.

"Your grandfather made all of these?"

Jared nodded. "And the ones on the other side of the bar. Every last door, hinge and piece of trim made painstakingly by hand. Believe me, he told me often enough." He sighed out a low laugh. "His name was Alvin Hall, and Hall of Doors was the name of his business. But his plan didn't pan out, so he moved his business out to Northern Virginia and let this place sit, mostly the way it looks like now. The buildings got passed down to my mother when he died, then to me, when she…" He let the sentence trail, hanging in the air between them for a moment.

"Oh," Jensen breathed. "I'm so sorry."

"When she decided to take her dad's inheritance and move to Europe," Jared finished with a grin.

"You," Jensen noted, impressed, "are an asshole."

"Not pretty enough to get away with that one?" he asked.

When Jensen shook his head, Jared snapped his fingers in regret and muttered, "Damn."

Alicia, who had moved closer to them while Jared had been talking, chimed in, "If I had twenty bucks for every time he's pulled that joke I could buy a plane ticket to join his mom in Europe."

Jensen supposed he shouldn't be surprised. This was the guy who'd offered complimentary coffins to vampires in his ad, after all.

"And that," Jared said and lifted his hands in presentation, "is how I ended up the owner of the Hall of Doors."

Alicia gave a long-suffering sigh as she wiped at a stray spill on the bar. "And that's his long ass way of explaining why he's a white dude who owns a dance club on U Street."

"I'm a history buff," Jared countered, feigning indignation, and Jensen could tell this was a long-standing routine between them. "It's a hobby."

"Obsession," Alicia corrected with a smirk. "You haven't even shown him the apartment yet and you're giving him a history lesson?"

"It's good to know the history of the place you're going to be living in."

Alicia looked at Jensen, and spoke in an aside, "Did I mention he was overconfident?"

Jared glanced at Alicia, and then went on. "I had to leave in the dividing wall since it serves as support, which works out, because it divides the club into the chill half," he spread his hands to indicate the room they're standing in, "and the dance floor half," he moved his fingers in the direction of the other side. "You saw the wooden door out front? The stairs to the apartment are through there, they cut right through the wall in the middle. The rental is on the third floor, up the stairs, on the right."

Jensen took a second to work out the logistics in his head and realized that put the rental above the dance floor half. "So what's above us?"

"My apartment."

An apartment above a nightclub could be trouble enough, but a roommate across the hall, as well?

Jared must have seen his hesitation, because he paused, assessing Jensen's expression with those warm, hazel eyes. "Don't worry. I might be a sweet talker, but I'm not a creep. Check with Alicia for my references."

Jensen hadn't been worried about that. Well, he hadn't been primarily worried about that. Still, Jensen looked toward Alicia and raised his brows in question.

"He's safe. That way, anyway. Might drive you crazy other ways, though," Alicia said with a shrug.

"No creeping, promise." Jared dragged a fingertip across his too-tight t-shirt and traced an "x" over his heart. "Just outrageous flirting," he added with a wink.

"Great." Jensen tilted his head with a low laugh.

"Come on," Jared said as he began to walk toward the front of the club. "Let's let you have a look at it before the rest of the crew gets here. I'm gonna be pretty busy in about half an hour."

Jensen moved to follow him to the door, asking, "What do you do here?"

"Little bit of everything. Run the kegs, tap the kegs, work the bar, help in the kitchen, bus tables, bounce assholes out whenever Angel is too busy."

"Your bouncer is named Angel?" Jensen asked, amused.

"His real name's Angelo, but don't ever tell him I told you that." Jared shrugged, summing up with, "I do whatever needs doing. The kitchen crew's already prepping, but the rest of the staff and our DJ'll be here soon to set up. Keyowné Wallace—DJ Key, you heard of him?"

"No."

"Well, you  _ will _ be hearing a lot of him," Jared replied with a chuckle and shot him an amused glance.

Right, Jensen thought, with the apartment being directly over the dancefloor and all.

"Funny," he remarked, and though his tone was mostly unimpressed, Jared seemed to take it as a compliment anyway.

Jared held the door open behind him for him on the way out and then turned, fingers moving quick through a keyring with a dozen keys on it. He picked a decidedly modern key to push into the knob of the wooden door and turned the lock before he stepped inside, holding the door open behind him.

"Mail comes in through the door slot," he told Jensen.

There was a small landing before the stairs began on the right, and Jared made sure the door was firmly shut behind them before starting up them. Jensen followed a few steps behind, trying not to notice the way his jeans showed off … everything. He was wondering how often Jared worked out when Jared spoke up again.

"In his later days," Jared said, his voice echoing inside the stairwell, "my grandfather incorporated bathroom tubs and tile as part of his business. The apartment has a jet tub."

"Really?" Jensen asked, his interest perked.

Jared turned his face and grinned down at Jensen sideways over his shoulder like he was sure he had Jensen hooked, and dropped the coup de grâce. "Did I mention it also comes furnished?"

  
[](https://ibb.co/ec5E6y)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

 


	2. Chapter 2

Wind sang down the dark alley, tossing jaw length strands of cobalt blue hair into Jensen's eyes, tips fading to aqua, already beginning to reveal the blond beneath. He brushed the errant locks behind one ear as he passed a massive, ancient dumpster overflowing with couch stuffing and broken chair legs, its deep, lingering, rotted smell not-quite drowned out by the scent of cooking Caribbean food that wafted on the air. The mingled scents of nutmeg, cinnamon, and ginger hit him full force as he exited the alleyway, turning west on U Street, and he spared a thought for dinner as his stomach grumbled.

He'd come to like it, in his short time there. All along the sidewalk, lights spilled in full color from shop fronts into the streets, red, blue and green glow that painted the dark pavement. The buildings themselves were a riot of color, ranging from bright yellow to coral pink to dark purple, bold shades that sat strangely upon the brick Victorian row houses. It wasn't quite the same there as it was a bit further west, sweet jazz and history traded for steady thumping bass and windows lit with neon enticements, but it was home.

 _For another month or three, anyway_ , he thought.

He glanced up a set of iron-railed, narrow stairs chipping as much concrete as paint, eyeing the outside balcony adorned with tiny wrought iron tables and red umbrellas in striking contrast to the building's aqua exterior. In a few weeks, he guessed, those tables and umbrellas would be safely locked away in storage to weather the coming winter. Still, people lingered outside; smoking cigarettes before they returned to their drinks or perhaps with the hope that dinner had been delivered to their table while they were absent. He let his eyes flow over them, taking in the impression of them without pausing as he passed.

Midway down the street were the large plate glass windows lined with black light tubes that illuminated the words _Hall of Doors_ _Nightclub and Café_ painted in swirls of metallic silver. In the upper right-hand corner, above several box lights that advertised various domestic beers, a red fluorescent sign proclaimed the club was "OPEN", just in case the spinning lights, thrumming music and muffled shouts of conversation from inside weren't indication enough. Above that glowing wording lit with purple light was the apartment he currently called 'his'. Tiny and cramped and flecking faded paint in tiny flakes on the lumpy second-hand furniture that was too old to be considered modern and wasn't quite old enough to be retro.

 _Did I mention it also comes furnished?_ he remembered, snorting.

He fit his key into the narrow, wooden door that had seen many layers of paint, currently boasting mostly forest green, though the rust-colored paint beneath was struggling to make a comeback, creeping up from the bottom edge. He locked it behind him and made his way up the narrow stairs before he reached the tiny landing on the third floor and unlocked the door to the left with a different key.

There was a movement, a sound to his left, and as he turned his head to look, he lost his grip on his keys. They fell to the tiled floor and skidded a foot or two to his right.

Jared leaned down and plucked them from the floor before Jensen could move, depositing them quickly into his open palm.

"My hero," Jensen said and pretended to swoon.

"Just call me Batman." Jared grinned.

Jensen squinted at him, tipping his head slightly to one side. "Nah. Batman is more threatening. And darker. You're more like…" He considered, thinking for a moment. "The Boy Wonder."

"Robin?" Jared asked and wrinkled his nose with comical distaste. "No way. I'm definitely main character material.

"Sorry." Jensen grinned and folded his arms across his chest, not sorry at all.

"I don't identify as a sidekick," Jared said, as if that were some sort of defense.

"We all have our crosses to bear." Jensen chuckled.

Jared must have been on his way back down to the club. He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans that looked velvety soft they were so worn and a dark blue v-neck t-shirt that, like most of his shirts, appeared to be two sizes too small for him. The thin material stretched over his shoulders and upper arms, clinging tight, setting off his light tan, and Jensen would wonder if Jared always looked this good or if it was just him, but he'd seen the way other people look at Jared. It definitely wasn't just him.

Jared took a step closer to him, smiling that easy smile of his. "So, how's my favorite tenant?"

"I'm your _only_ tenant," Jensen replied, smiling back. Even after a short time of knowing him, this was already an old game between them.

"Then I must be telling the truth," Jared shot back with a wink. "So…" he began again, "how _is_ my favorite tenant tonight?" he asked like he really wanted to know.

For someone like Jensen, who generally played things close to the chest, that was maybe the worst thing about Jared; his total sincerity on top of his charm. He was an incorrigible flirt, and he would probably ask anyone he knew how they were in the exact same way, but that didn't change the warmth in his eyes, the genuine curiosity, and he made Jensen want to answer just as genuinely.

"All right," Jensen answered, shifting his shoulders back and forth. "Just getting back. Read a few palms, did some tarot readings."

"Well, if you ever get tired of hustling people on the street, I'm sure we could find a spot for you to hustle people at the bar," Jared said, grinning.

Hustling, that was how he always put it. And he wasn't wrong.

"Pretty as you are, I'm not sure I could take seeing you that much." Jensen chuckled.

"Ow," Jared said, putting a dramatic hand over his heart and staggering back a step. "You wound me, Jack."

Jensen laughed and a lock of cobalt hair fell forward into his face. Jared stopped then, eyes focusing on Jensen's hair, and Jensen lifted his hand, about to sweep it back behind his ear when Jared reached out to do the same and their hands collided.

There was a flash behind Jensen's eyes, a vision of a young boy and a golden retriever rolling in the grass, a woman's voice calling out a name in the background. For a moment, he could see the woman, clear as the sunny day all around her, standing on the back porch of a suburban house in jeans and a bright pink t-shirt, a pitcher of lemonade in her hands. 'Jared,' the woman called out again to the boy. 'Give Rusty a rest and come inside.'

[ ](https://ibb.co/ga6CRy)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

Jensen yanked his hand away from Jared's, and the vision immediately dissolved into ether.

"Sorry," Jared apologized, instantly, drawing his hand back.

"No, it's…" Jensen trailed off, at a loss as he shook his head again and pushed his hair back into place. Jensen hadn't been ready, hadn't put his guard up, but it wasn't Jared's fault. It had just been a stupid accident, and Jensen couldn't tell Jared why he'd yanked away from his touch like he'd had leprosy any more than Jensen could explain to himself what he'd just seen—or why he'd seen it at all. He wished he could reach out, pat Jared's arm and tell him was okay, but he didn't dare risk it. Once you started touching people they tended to start touching you back, and Jensen couldn't keep his guard up constantly.

"I was just going to say," Jared went on, more softly, so soft Jensen almost couldn't hear him above the noise from downstairs. "I'm starting to like the blue. It suits you."

Jensen's teeth caught at the corner of his mouth before he forced a smile. "You shouldn't get attached to it."

"Still, I like it," Jared said and pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

They stood in silence, looking at each other for a few seconds.

"Well, I'd better get back downstairs," Jared said, tilting his head in that direction. "You should stop by sometime, see the place in full swing."

"Yeah, maybe." Jensen summoned a smile, thinking how that was one of the last things he wanted to do. That would be too many people gathered in one place, too much skin that might have touched his, or worse.

"See ya, Jack." Jared gave Jensen one of his dazzling grins and then he was gone, disappearing down the stairwell.

He opened the door to the living room of his apartment, walking through it to the open kitchen, and set down his backpack on the worn Formica counter separating the two. He lifted his hand, touching it where Jared's skin had brushed against his, and thought of a little boy who'd once owned a dog named Rusty. Jared had seemed as happy in the memory as he did now, and Jensen wondered what Jared's life had been like growing up. He shook his head then, cutting off the thought. He had no business knowing about the memory at all, much less contemplating things about Jared based off of it. It was none of his business.

He turned his attention to dinner instead. In the cabinet, there were a few boxes of macaroni and cheese, and in his backpack was the used Kindle HD he'd managed to buy last week, along with another prepaid phone. He could run a bath, eat dinner in the jet tub and set his Kindle up on the crooked wooden footstool and watch borrowed Netflix while the bubbles worked at his muscles.

The floor beneath his feet throbbed with the _thumpa thumpa_ of incessant bass. The jet tub would drown out most of the vibration, and he could turn on the closed captioning on the video. He decided on the plan and set about boiling water on the stove.

A while later, after the credits had rolled on the show he'd been watching, his belly was full, muscles relaxed by hot water and bubble jets, and he could feel himself drifting, eyes fluttering closed. Painted on the inside of his eyelids was the vision of a tall, dark-skinned man in a gray suit, a suitcase in one hand, the other caught on the knob of the open door to his bedroom, breath frozen in his lungs, heart suspended between beats, eyes wide and disbelieving at the sight before him.

It was in these moments that they haunted him most; the Gloria's and Paul's and Jared's of the world creeping in around the cracks, tiny patchwork pieces of them blending within his mind, trying to merge with his own memories, weaving themselves into the fabric of his dreams.

He dipped his body downward, face submerged for an instant as he breathed out through his nose and then pulled his head from beneath the water, heels of his hands wiping at his eyes before he blinked them open. The cooler air of the room hit him, waking him slightly, and he leaned back again, letting it work through him.

Within his line of vision, there was a clock on the wall above the toilet, its dark hands fixed at 11:47, red second hand ticking weakly back and forth between forty-five and forty-six, powerless to climb any higher toward its goal. It had been there when he'd moved in, a cast-off relic at odds with the technology connected to every outlet in the small apartment. He had asked Jared about it, and Jared had shrugged and said he thought some previous tenant had left it behind.

_"If you're not going to get rid of it, you should probably put a battery in it."_

Jensen hadn't though. He liked the idea that this room eschewed time; that it was always 11:47, no matter how much time he spent there.

He watched the endless flickering of the red second hand, feeling the hum of the tub around him, lulling and peaceful, and his eyelids began to flutter closed again. Warm water bubbled around him as he spiraled down, and he drifted, cast upon the currents of dreams, peaceful over fields of flowers. Through the round pink petals and sharp blades of grass to the earth, brown and muddy and wet, to the stony layer beneath and deeper still, into the core of the world. There was nothing here but blackness, emptiness, the space between living things that burgeoned, growing green. Deeper even than magma, stone and stillness older than creation, and yet, he _burned_.

Flames rose around him, devouring the air, dripping ash like snowflakes, burning along bones that didn't exist, ghost fire and translucent delineation that he almost understood. Inert bodies were committed to the earth above him, living ones walking upon its surface, and all of them were known. Skeletal structure, so delicate, barely concealed and encased in flesh and he could see when they strained close—when they called to him.

Too much, too deep, and he had to pull away.

Fire no longer, just a boy as he rose up through stone and earth and grass. The concrete streets of Philadelphia passed meaningless beneath his feet and his eyes fell upon the man wrapped in a thin blanket. He was skin and bone, thin lifeline held together by spit and bailing wire and tattered clothing. The man's gnarled hand reached for him as he approached, skeletal fingers digging deep into his flesh, and he could see the man's face and the bare bone of his skull, blue eyes and empty sockets at the same time. Color swirled around the man, a black and red that clung to his form like a buzzing, agitated swarm of bees, and he fell backward, crying out in horror.

The man descended upon him, his teeth jagged, colored shards of glass, rows and rows of them within the shape of his jawbone, and there were silver coins laid over the blue of his eyes, sunk deep within the empty sockets. The man's body caught fire as he laid hold of him, fat sizzling and dripping, flesh and bare bone all at once, burning incandescent heat against him, white hot. In the moment before the man was consumed, his skull twisted and shrunk, blackened flesh that stubbornly clung to lips and tongue. Eyes jade green and still bright, his own face stared back at him from the burnt ruin and laughed, teeth melting into a confusion of color like carnival glass.

"My darling beautiful boy," it guttered, mouth searing and flecked with ash as dying lips brushed his.

He snapped from sleep with the savage splashing of hot water, scream still rising in the back of his throat. His body yanked upward of its own accord, hands grabbing the sides of the tub, spine unnaturally stiff as he gasped and tried to place his surroundings. DC. He was in a bathtub in Washington, DC, and that had been a dream. Only a dream, and there had been nothing of reality in it, not a single drop.

 _Not even a drop?_ asked a sly voice at the back of his mind.

He rubbed at his eyes, pushing the wetness from his eyelashes and blinked, rising to his feet. In the background, he could hear the frantic dialogue between characters on his Kindle, their words discarded as he stepped free of the tub. Water dripped to puddle at his feet as he snatched the towel from its rack and wrapped it like protection around his body, his lungs trying hard just to breathe.

Wet footprints trailed behind him to the closet of his bedroom, and he traded the towel for jeans and a t-shirt, black leather boots and his motorcycle jacket. Fully clothed, he almost felt normal—or whatever equated to normal in his world. Still, he knew it was there, that tiny, triangular bit of unreality in his jacket pocket that had wedged itself like an icicle inside his heart.

He bit down hard on his lower lip and his fingers rose to pull at the upper left zipper pocket of his jacket. Clumsy, faltering of fingers and then they closed gingerly around what was inside. He pulled it out carefully and held it up to the light even as he disbelieved its existence, as if that would make it less real.

It was a shard of glass, glittering bright red like the color of fresh blood.

It was such a small thing. It didn't seem like enough to have sent him running to put as much distance between his car's taillights and Philadelphia as he could.

 _My darling beautiful boy,_ he thought and shuddered.  
  


*    *    *

  
Later, when he stood downstairs in the street outside the bar, he felt just the tiniest bit better. He could do this. He could be around other people. People were not his favorite thing, and occasionally they could be horrific, but right now they were better than anything his subconscious could serve up.

Caught in the red light of the "OPEN" sign, he hesitated for just a moment, shifting his weight inside his leather jacket before he pushed open the door to the club.

It was dark and foggy inside; music pumped and lights flashed, bodies pushed and shoved against each other, flesh packed tight into sweaty space. It wasn't all that different from what he imagined Hell would be like, except for the laughter instead of the screaming, and for a moment, he wondered why he'd thought this was a good idea.

He maneuvered his way through the loud chatter above the blare of club music throbbing from the speakers and let his eyes graze off the people he passed. A white, dark-haired guy in a black t-shirt that fit like second skin gave him the eye as he approached, but he moved past the man, hip brushing his, denim against denim as he made his way to the chill side of the bar where it was considerably less noisy.

Jared was there, behind lovingly polished wood, serving two frosted mugs of pale beer to a pair of guys in matching purple Ravens t-shirts. Jensen watched his hand slide dollar bills across the bar top in a deft motion, tuck them into the cash register and dole out change before he knocked the drawer shut with one hip. The bar is packed and Jared was in full form, alight with so much energy Jensen could almost see it crackling on the air around him. When Jared lifted his eyes, sighting Jensen as he approached, his face broke into a wide grin.

"Ja-aaaaaaahhhhhck." Jared sang out his name above the music and the noise of the crowd, causing several heads to turn in their direction.

"Hey, Jared," Jensen said in what he considered to be a much more reasonable tone of voice and tried not to smile as he slid onto a barstool.

Jared planted his elbows on the bar and leaned toward Jensen, smiling. "Couldn't stay away, huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Jensen replied, smiling back despite himself.

"Some people would just call it speaking the truth." Jared winked, shooting him a playful grin.

"Some people are just too kind to say otherwise," Jensen shot back and chuckled.

"And some people are in denial of the facts," Jared parried with a smirk. He reached over and plucked a coaster from atop a stack, sliding it with one fingertip across the bar to stop in front of Jensen. Jared left his finger there, resting on the corner of the cardboard square with the words "In Dog Beers I've Had Three" printed on it, his hazel eyes locked on Jensen's.

"Still doing all right?" Jared asked, his eyes shaded with curiosity and a touch of concern.

Dream still clinging to the edges of him, Jensen lifted his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug. "I'm fine."

"Not good enough," Jared proclaimed and produced a glass from beneath the bar. He set it on the coaster, other hand reaching to the cooler beside him and grabbing a metal scooper to dish out ice.

"So what'll it be?" Jared asked. "Vodka cranberry? White Russian? A Jared Padalecki special guaranteed to get you on the dance floor and probably into trouble?" His voice lilted, teasing on the last sentence, and he arched an eyebrow at Jensen.

"Hmm." Jensen pretended to think it over and then shook his head, a lock of blue hair escaping from behind one ear and falling forward into his face. "No trouble for me, thanks."

"The _good_ kind of trouble," Jared promised with an inviting smile. He started to reach out, as if maybe he were going to smooth Jensen's hair back, and then stopped, setting his hand down on the countertop instead.

Jensen pretended not to notice and turned his face away from Jared at an angle, sweeping his hair back and squinting sideways as he feigned amused suspicion. "Does this kind of trouble happen to involve the guy who's not only my bartender but also my landlord and neighbor?"

"Maybe," Jared grinned, drawing out the word.

"You wish." Jensen chuckled.

"Play your cards right, this could all be yours," Jared told Jensen with a wink, motioning toward himself to encompass 'this'.

And it wasn't as if 'this' wasn't impressive. Jensen followed the motion of his hand, letting his eyes roam the length of musculature underneath his dark blue t-shirt down to the joint of his hip, eyeing the sliver of bare skin exposed between the hem and his form-fitting faded jeans.

"Take your time," Jared told Jensen with a hint of a smirk in his voice, and Jensen snapped his eyes up to meet Jared's, his mouth curving into a rueful smile.

"Jared, honey," a female voice cut in from his right, "you need to move your hot little ass. Some of us have to serve the _other_ customers." Behind the bar, Alicia bumped Jared to the left and then bent in front of him to get a glass from beneath the bar. Alicia looked up at Jensen as she moved, and said, "I hope you're not buying what he's selling, Jack, 'cause lord knows he's trying to sell it to everybody up in here."

"Drinks," Jared protested as he took a step backward, giving Alicia room to work. "I sell drinks."

"Mmmhmm," Alicia hummed like she didn't believe a word he was saying, and without even looking at him, she turned to the taps, beginning to fill the glass with beer. "Why don't you go sell some drinks to that asshole in the red baseball cap down at the other end of the bar keeps calling me his little Beyoncé before I have to hurt him."

"I'm on it," Jared promised as he stepped into the space Alicia had just vacated. With a quick, precise hand, he poured vodka and cranberry into the ice-filled glass on the bar, automatically reaching for the limes before he corrected himself, his fingers curling around a lemon wedge and pushing it onto the rim. He met Jensen's eyes again and slid the drink an inch closer to him.

"On the house," Jared said, eyes holding Jensen's for a beat before he turned, walking down toward the other end of the bar.

Alicia had joked that Jensen shouldn't let Jared sweet talk him into paying more for the apartment than it was worth, but the truth was, he'd given Jensen such a fair price he'd almost felt bad about accepting, peeling paint and lumpy furniture notwithstanding. Now Jared was giving him free drinks at the bar, and he hated that he wondered why. The fact that he was even thinking about it said a lot more about him than it did about Jared.

Jensen was reaching for his drink when someone beside him bumped into him hard enough to send his hand careening away from the glass. Turning his head to look sideways, Jensen could see a couple seated on the stools beside him. They looked new to love, their mouths pressed together with need and heat, hands entwined in each other's hair, aware of nothing except the feel of each other. Jensen moved his drink a few inches to the left and scooted his barstool to follow, trying to give them more space. As he did, a man slid up neatly into the spot between Jensen and the couple, his waist leaning against the bar, his back turned to Jensen.

Over the man’s shoulder, Jensen could see the woman’s face, graceful curve to her pale neck as she considered the stranger. From Jensen's angle, all he could make out was the stranger's hair color, which was platinum blond and longish, pulled back into a short ponytail near the nape of his neck. But he could hear the man clear as a bell when he spoke.

"You know he was thinking about your sister just now?" the strange man asked the woman conversationally.

"What?" the woman asked and blinked at him.

"Cynthia, your sister," the man said, as if she might be slow. "When he was kissing you just now, he was thinking of her. The birthmark just above the line of her bikini. The one that looks like a letter 'o', wondering what it would taste like."

The woman just stared at him, her mouth as round as the supposed birthmark on her sister's belly.

"Are you going to get out of my seat?" the man asked. "Or do you need to hear what he imagined after that?"

Not a word was spoken between the lovers as they rose from their seats, but Jensen could hear their voices, loud and harsh a moment later as they moved away from the bar.

"Trouble in paradise," the strange man muttered and clucked his tongue ruefully against the roof of his mouth as he slid onto one of the vacant stools beside Jensen.

The man had brown skin and strangely pale gray eyes that almost seemed to glow in the semi-darkness as he regarded Jensen, piercing intelligence gleaming in them like diamonds. He was extremely handsome, his cheekbones high and clearly defined and his jawline sharp and masculine, with a wide mouth just full enough to be sensual. His brows were a shade of silver-gray that made Jensen think his platinum hair might be natural—unless he dyed them, too, and judging by the way he was dressed, that wasn't out of the question. His hip-length, dark gray wool coat looked straight out of a high fashion magazine, tailor-fitted to every inch of his physique, which was lean and lithely muscled, and he was wearing a black leather glove on his left hand.

Jensen didn't usually spend that much time looking at people if he didn't have to, but there was something about the man, and he could have sworn… had the man just read the male half of that couple's mind? Or maybe touched him and seen a memory, like Jensen did? It seemed too wild to even consider, but Jensen couldn't think of another way to explain what had just happened. Both sides of the couple had seemed to know what the man was talking about, enough that they'd argued about it after they'd walked away. Jensen's mind spun, trying to credit it somehow, but his thoughts tumbled like clothes inside a dryer, cycling in place.

"Penny for your thoughts," the man said, and his voice was melodic and rich, one corner of his mouth quirking upward.

Jensen was still reeling too hard to speak.

When Jensen didn't respond, the man continued, "That would be a generous offer for most people. But you…" His gaze tightened on Jensen as he leaned forward, intent. "You're something different, aren't you?"

It dawned on Jensen suddenly then, the potential reality of the situation. _Careful. Be very careful_ , he thought. Everything about the man was polished and poised, deliberate and charming, and if he really could read minds or memories, the combination could have been very dangerous.

Jensen drew back from him as the man leaned toward him, and pulled his mental shields close as he met the man's gaze head-on. "I don't know what you mean."

"Come now," the man chided, his voice silky, laced with dark humor. "That innocent routine might work on the cattle, but we both know better than that, don't we?"

"That depends on what we know," Jensen said and took a drink from his glass, eyes never leaving the other man's.

The man leaned backward then, elbow resting on the bar, knuckles of his bare right hand resting beneath his chin as he considered Jensen, his expression one of mild surprise. Jensen got the feeling it wasn't an expression he made often.

"You've never met anyone like you before, have you?" the man asked, seeming fascinated, and the way he was looking at Jensen, so intense and focused, they might as well have been the only two people in the room.

"And what am I like, exactly?" Jensen asked.

The man huffed out a breath that was more a scoff than a laugh. "I saw you the moment I walked into this room. The way you shine, glow."

"Glow?" Jensen repeated with a shake of his head, looking at him askance. "Tell me…" he arched a brow at the man, "as bad pick-up lines go, does that ever actually work?"

The look the man gave him suggested his stock in what Jensen's thoughts were worth was rapidly plummeting. "Perhaps I should be blunt, then," the man suggested, tone wry.

"Mmm," Jensen agreed, all sarcasm, matching his tone as he tilted his head to the side, his brows rising briefly in the same direction.

The man breathed out, slow and deliberate through his nose, as if sighing, and then lifted a hand in the air, palm upward, forefinger pointed at Jensen, the rest of his fingers curled naturally backward. "When I walked in here, you were thinking that the bartender…" He paused, squinting, pale eyes glancing upward to the left, as if trying to remember. "Jared…" he said with a snap of his fingers and a smirk, hand returning to the bar. "You were thinking he was 'alight with energy'. So much energy you could almost see it… crackling in the air around him."

Jensen ran a hand through his hair, slow, nails scraping lightly over his scalp, chin-length strands pushed back in its wake, and took another drink. Calm, he was dead calm on the outside, his exterior a fixed, stony surface, sheer force of will that pushed down against the panic that wanted to rise. "You have no idea what I was thinking."

"Oh, of course not," the man agreed with an incline of his head. "I just pulled the phrase 'alight with energy' out of thin air." His sarcasm was honed to a fine, perfect, steel-edged point.

It didn't seem likely that the man had, but he was a stranger to Jensen—a potentially dangerous stranger who not only knew about but seemed to share Jensen's abilities. Which meant he could be a potential ally as well.

Jensen's drink had been part of the physical barrier he'd kept up between them, a way of distancing the man, but he set it aside, then, fingertips slipping from the slick condensation on the glass. If he could just have touched the man, he could have known the truth, but if the man was being honest, Jensen was sure the man would have known exactly what he was trying to do. He caught his lower lip between his teeth, letting it slide away as he shook his head slightly, eyes narrowing on the man. "I'm just supposed to believe you can read minds?"

There was no hesitation in the man as he lifted his bare right hand, letting it dangle in invitation in the small space separating them, his palm upward and open, fingers curled inward.  

"Touch me," the man proposed, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Touch me and see what I saw."

Jensen sat still as stone on his barstool, his heart beginning to pound in his chest, torn between fight and flight. The man couldn't possibly have known what touching someone allowed Jensen to see. There was no way the man could have known that. But everything in the man's expression, his posture, his extended hand, suggested that he very much did.

 _There is_ **_one_ ** _way he could know_ , a voice spoke up at the back of Jensen's mind.

"I don't bite," the man promised. "Unless you'd prefer that I did," he added with a smirk. "But I tend to stick to designated biting zones, barring personal requests, so you're safe enough."

Safe. Jensen wasn't sure he even knew the meaning of the word. He didn't know what to think of the man, but if Jensen touched him he would know more than he did. He'd know the truth or lie of what the man was saying. He'd know if the man really could pluck thoughts from Jensen's mind from across a crowded room.

_And if he can, you need to get the hell away from him, fast. Hell, you should probably do that right now._

It was true. Jensen knew it was true. But this was the first person he'd met that seemed to share anything like his 'gift'. Jensen couldn't possibly have walked away from this opportunity, and the man probably knew that, too.

Jensen's fingers reached and caught, trailing awkwardly against the man's, down the length to his palm.

"Ready?" the man asked.

Jensen nodded, his fingers sliding to the side, closing around the man's hand.

// _He can see himself in the distance through the throng of bodies in the bar, cobalt blue hair hanging at a downward angle from the occipital bone at the back of his skull to the point of his chin. Jensen is looking at Jared, watching him work the bar, and thinking how he can almost see the energy around Jared as he moves. He can see his own energy burning white-hot, nearly blotting out his features, golden tinged at the edges, the colors of other people moving in the background, azure to yellow to green to violet, lines sketched around them like smoke and liquid that he doesn't examine too closely._

_He burns, incandescent, brighter than all of them. //_

Jensen began to pull from the man's hand, to break off the memory, and the man's left hand closed over Jensen's, gloved fingers caressing as they eased Jensen back into the touch. The memory ended abruptly, seemingly of its own accord, and Jensen was left looking at him, breathless. Jensen wanted to stumble from his seat and run away, his heart pounding and mind still reeling from what he'd just seen. But the man still had his hand, and that physical contact held Jensen like the thinnest of tethers.

"I'm Lex, by the way," the man said and grinned.

It took him a moment, groping for words, before he could respond. "I'm Jack. Jack Less."

"Does anyone actually believe that's your real name?" the man asked, conversational.

Again, Jensen felt the urge to flee rise up hard inside him, and he strained to keep his tone level as he asked, "I suppose you know differently?"

"I know it isn't your real name, but, I also don't know what your real name is." Lex shook his head, his leather encased fingers stroking across the back of Jensen's hand. "Some things are buried so deep, even I can't see them. You're wise to keep it hidden." He let his head tilt slightly to one side in a sort of nod as he looked Jensen up and down. "Jack, then."

"And you're just Lex?" Jensen asked. "No last name?"

"Real names have power." He smiled. "As you well know."

Jensen narrowed his eyes at Lex, unsure of what he knew and what he didn't. Lex may not have known Jensen's real name, but did Lex know why he kept it hidden? This… this was the reason people would find the truth of Jensen's power terrifying. No one should be able to know someone's innermost thoughts and secrets, the nightmare things they keep hidden in deep, dark closets behind locked doors.

Gray eyes, fading white near the iris, focused on Jensen, inscrutable.

Jensen wondered if Lex could hear him wondering, and tried to reach out with a sense he didn't have, to touch Lex's mind with his own.

After a moment, Lex sighed. "I can't see the things you truly wish to keep hidden; just surface thoughts and fragments. Like the ones you're broadcasting at me right now," he noted, wry.

"You're not reassuring me," Jensen shot back, his tone sharp.

"Someone like you would sense it if I tried to push further," Lex said, as if that ended the matter.

Jensen assumed Lex was implying he would know because of his abilities. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't," Lex replied. He leaned toward Jensen, then, eyes rapt on his, his voice low and rich like dark honey as he went on, "But even if I were lying, I'd much prefer to get to know you the old-fashioned way."

His face was much closer to Jensen's than a stranger's should ever have been, and Jensen didn't feel the urge to pull away, much as the rational part of him insisted he should.

"I want to show you something else, Jack," Lex said, fingertips riding slowly across the ridge of Jensen's knuckles.

Lex spoke the words with intimacy, like a sweet secret shared between them, and Jensen was suddenly, incredibly aware of the feel of Lex's skin against his, the touch and glide of Lex's fingers. Bare skin to bare skin and he should have been cast adrift in a sea of Lex's memories, but there was nothing, not even a whisper in Jensen's mind, the sensation purely physical in a way he hadn't felt since... How long had it been since he allowed someone to touch him with anything like intent? How long since he'd wanted someone to? Jensen wasn't sure he wanted it now; Lex was too much of an unknown, potentially dangerous to Jensen's identity and his life. And yet, Jensen couldn't deny that he was drawn to Lex in some strange way. Lex tugged at the very blood in Jensen's veins, like perhaps calling to like. Electricity danced on the air between them, tension wrapped like thick fog around them, separating them from the rest of the world until Jensen felt like reality barely existed.

Jensen drew back from the intensity of it, shielding his heart and mind, but he didn't pull from Lex's touch, not quite yet.

"What do you want to show me?" Jensen asked, his voice a rough whisper.

Lex's eyes seemed to burn with an inner light as he stared into Jensen's. "Many, many things." He breathed the words like a confession, thumb brushing across the back of Jensen's hand. "But we should start with something small. The way I saw you… You can see like I do, if you know how. See a person's 'aura'—the unique energy of their very soul."

The words hit Jensen like a splash of cold water, startling him from the moment between them, and he could almost feel the tension dissolve as he began to shake his head. Dread filled Jensen, rising on the back of his tongue like bitter bile, and his fingers twitched between Lex's. "No. I've seen enough of… people's souls."

"Whatever you've seen," Lex assured him, voice low and smooth, "it wasn't this."

"You don't know what I've seen." The words were not quite a question.

"No." Lex shook his head, eyes never leaving Jensen's. "But I know it wasn't this because I felt your surprise when I let you see yourself through me."

There was truth in that. Jensen had never stopped to wonder if there was more he could do. Maybe he hadn't wanted to know. Probably he hadn't wanted to know. Okay, he definitely hadn't wanted to know.

"How do you know I can see like you?" Jensen asked after a moment.

Lex's reply was instantaneous. "Because I know what we are, Jack."

For a moment Jensen's mind was completely blank… and then it imploded in a rush of thoughts and emotion. A thousand questions flew to his lips, poising on the tip of his tongue. He was exhilarated, filled with wonder and trepidation all at once, burning up with curiosity and completely, utterly terrified. He was dying to know the truth and scared to death to know it. What if the truth were worse?

It didn't matter if it was. He needed to know.

"Why can we do these things?" Jensen asked, fear still brimming in his throat, as scared of the answer as he was of not knowing.

"I said we should start small," Lex replied, corner of his mouth quirking, barest edge of sarcasm laced through the words.

Jensen nodded, swallowing hard. He wanted answers, wanted them badly enough that he was tempted to rip them from Lex's memories. He could have torn the answers from Lex—well he thought he could. But Lex actually seemed to be able to control the flow of his memories, so maybe Jensen couldn't. Jensen couldn't risk chasing Lex off by finding out. Lex seemed willing enough to give answers in time, but in the meantime, Jensen still needed to be careful and not let himself be lulled by Lex's sinuous voice or lured by the chemistry between them.

Jensen cleared his mind, pulling with an effort from the grip of both, and focused his attention on Lex.

"In the beginning, it's easier if your focal point is someone you know. Look at Jared," Lex said, voice soft, inviting. "Watch him, the way he moves. See his edges, not his form, the shapes he cuts against the air. The lines he makes against the background. And then look beyond those lines."

Jensen eyed Lex, skeptical, gauging the depth of his words.

"I'd say 'trust me', but you wouldn't," Lex said, knowing. "So let me put it to you this way: You have nothing to lose."

Lex had proven he could read thoughts, and whatever attraction Jensen might have felt toward him, he didn't trust Lex as far as he could throw the man. But Lex was right; he had nothing to lose. Hand still caught between Lex's, Jensen's eyes moved across the crowd to watch Jared; Jared in his tight, faded jeans, all bright smiles and hazel eyes. Jared was captivating, but Jensen needed to see beyond that, see something more. And he _could_ see, the way Jared moved, flowed against the crowd around him, a part of it and apart from it. Jensen fixed his eyes on Jared, vision straining with the effort, and willed himself to see beyond that.

"Don't try so hard," Lex whispered. "Let your eyes lose their focus a little bit… Slide sideways into it."

Jensen took a breath and let his eyes relax, drop backward a fraction, and this is how he would look at the world if he were incredibly drunk, but he wasn't and… and he saw something, something shifting. He felt a strange, unfamiliar tickling at the edge of his awareness. He pushed into the feeling and let his eyes slacken another fraction. Jared was an indistinct shape, and it was difficult to focus on him without actually letting his eyes focus, but he recognized Jared, the easy, carefree flow of his movements, long-limbed and graceful. For an instant, Jensen saw something else, a flickering nimbus of light that licked at Jared's edges, there and gone like the flame of a match.

"There," Lex said, voice hushed. "You almost have it."

Jensen took a deeper breath and exhaled slowly, letting his muscles loosen, his mind pulling to a narrow point beyond his eyes. The room blurred, his vision seeming to double, heart speeding up, and he felt like he was swimming in thick, hot air, gasping for breath. His ribs contracted, protesting the lack of air and his mind seemed to convulse as the world became a swirling mass of colors and sound—and then everything snapped into sharp detail.

Jensen was keenly aware of the movement of every person around him, time seeming to slow, the scent of perfume and the musk of sweat tinging the air, background conversations and music fading away to meaningless white noise. His heartbeat slowed to normal, his breathing evening out, and he could see impressions sketched on the air around the bodies about him, but that wasn't what drew his eye.

Before him, Jared burned with brilliant light, fiery orange lining his form, fading yellow to blinding white where it touched his edges, tiny bolts that crackled over his skin like electricity. Jensen could hear it hum, singing on the air around Jared, and Jared wasn't just beautiful; he was _gorgeous_ , alive with unearthly light that burned from his very core with vibrant effervescence and radiant joy. Purity radiated from him, its resonance like music. The truth of him struck Jensen's heart like a sudden dagger, piercing deep into his soul, and all at once it was too much—too much to behold, too much to know and hold inside, a ferocious intimacy of knowledge that Jensen wanted to embrace and run from at the same time.

Jensen blinked the vision away and his eyes blurred again, his fingers clenching against Lex's, knuckles cracking with the pressure of Jensen's grip. The world was just the world again, not a song of color and light. The image was gone, but the afterglow remained locked behind his eyelids, burned into his retinas, etched into memory.

Lex squeezed his hand in return. "You thought he was alight with energy; now you've seen it."

"Stop," Jensen hissed, yanking his hand away.

"I did nothing," Lex assured him, hands retreating to fold across his lap. "That was all you."

There was a long silence between them, and Jensen could feel Lex watch him across the space between them, patiently waiting.

"What I saw…" Jensen paused, sucking air into his lungs, at a loss. There were tears in his eyes, and he blinked them back. He took another breath and tried again. His hands moved, fingers sketching against the air as he tried to encompass it somehow. "What I saw through you, when I saw myself… it was like a Polaroid picture, flat and lifeless compared to this. This was… this was Technicolor and surround sound and…" he trailed off, grinding his teeth together, frustrated by his inability to express what he felt. Words seemed a feeble thing, speech a primitive tool that could never have done justice to what he had just witnessed.

Lex stepped in, speaking after a moment. "That's because you were seeing him through your own eyes, experiencing your own reactions and emotions."

Jensen turned that information over in his mind. It _seemed_ to make sense. "But it still doesn't… This was…" He shook his head.

"Intimate?" Lex asked. "Overwhelming? It's not every day you see someone's soul, Jack," he added, arch. "And his is more vibrant than most, painted in broad brushstrokes of light against the dull canvas of the world."

Jensen nodded, beginning to feel more in control of himself again. The enormity of what he had just seen, the ineffability of it… at least Lex understood that much.

"He is interesting, isn't he?" Lex inclined his head in Jared's direction, eyes straying to the other man thoughtfully. "Such a genuine spirit, it almost makes him a mystery. Not entirely unlike you," he added, his gaze returning to Jensen.

A genuine spirit? Is that what Lex had seen when he looked at Jensen? Jensen huffed out a surprised, disbelieving laugh.

"I said 'not _entirely_ unlike you'. There are differences."

Jensen angled his head to one side, regarding Lex curiously. "Such as?"

"That," Lex said with a mischievous grin, "would be telling."

"That," Jensen replied with a hard-edged smile, "would be why I asked."

"Very well," Lex allowed, and he tilted his head to match the angle of Jensen's, meeting the challenge. "You're a dichotomy. So closed off and hidden away. But then…" He trailed off, eyes tracing the lines of Jensen's face. "The blue hair, your violet contacts, the punk rock clothes. You practically scream for attention."

"You find that strange?" Jensen asked, tilting his head in the opposite direction of Lex's.

"Deer are the color of bark for a reason."

"You're one to talk," Jensen said and gave him a quick glance up and down.

"Ah, but I…" Lex said, smirking as he leaned to close the scant space between them, "am not trying to hide."

Jensen lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "No one remembers your face when you look like this."

"No one remembers your face, when you're strange?" Lex asked, quoting The Doors with a knowing smirk. He was close, so very close, and Jensen could smell him, wool and leather and musk wrapped around a charming smile and riveting eyes.

Jensen leaned even closer, inhaling the scent of Lex, their eyes locked, and he couldn't put a name to this strange feeling Lex stirred in him, alien and familiar all at once.

"Hey there," came a voice from behind the bar, and Jared leaned into the space beside them, so close that Jensen drew back from Lex and took a deep breath.

Jared was eyeing Lex with the same skepticism Jensen had felt earlier, giving Lex a once-over before he looked at Jensen.

"Jack? Everything okay?" Jared asked.

In his mind's-eye, he could still see Jared burning up with brilliant light.

"Yeah." Jensen cleared his throat and managed to nod. "We were just…" He trailed off, not entirely sure what they had 'just'.

"Just about to go for a walk, if my lovely companion Jack would be so kind as to join me," Lex chimed in, giving Jared a charming smile before he looked at Jensen, those pale brows rising in question, leather gloved hand presented outward, palm open in invitation.

Jared's eyes were asking if Jensen was really all right, and he knew Jared was probably used to helping people fend off unwanted advances in a place like this. But Jensen wasn't sure if this was entirely unwanted, and he thought maybe he needed to find out.

Jensen gave Jared a slight nod, and then he reached out and took Lex's hand.  
  


*    *    *  
  


They walked the streets of the city in spans of darkness and neon between the splashes of streetlights, their shoulders pushed tight against each other, hands still intertwined, weaving through the groups of people walking the streets. The sky above them was a smooth, gray embankment of clouds, moon and stars shrouded behind the expanse, low buildings rising up around them. As they walked, Jensen felt the light wetness of a raindrop land on one cheek, so gentle that he might well have imagined it.

Walking hand and hand in companionable silence, they could have been lovers in the eyes of the people who passed by them. _Lovers_ , he thought and stifled the uneasy thrill the word sent through him.

"He cares for you," Lex said when he finally spoke.

"Who?" Jensen blinked, frowning as he pressed against Lex to let a group of people pass by more easily.

"'Who?' he asks, as if he didn't know," Lex said and chuckled.

Jensen wasn't sure what he meant. Unless he was talking about… "Jared?" he asked, confused. "He was just looking out for me."

"If that makes you feel better." Lex shrugged.

"What are you trying to say?" The words came out a bit more sharply than Jensen intended, though he couldn't say why, exactly.

"I'm saying he cares." Lex eyed him from the side, a smirk playing about his lips. "I daresay you care for him, yourself."

His words left Jensen feeling oddly self-conscious. He glanced away from Lex and tried to collect his thoughts. "Jared… Jared is… He's a good person. He cares about _people_. I… I like him, but I don't…" Jensen had no idea how he meant to finish that sentence and took a split second to regret having started it, and then he shook his head and threw off his uncertainty. "I don't want to talk about this."

"A bit conflicted, are we?" Lex asked, gray eyes glittering as they caught his.

"Stop playing games." Jensen halted their forward momentum, tugging Lex's hand to pull him to the side of the street. "Tell me what I want to know."

Lex followed Jensen's pull, closing the distance between them, his pale eyes boring into Jensen's. "What would you have me tell you, Jack Less?"

Rain began to fall in a steady drizzle from the sky, wetting Jensen's hair, his face, and he watched it cascade over Lex's skin, brilliant beads that made him shine.

He was handsome and intense, his presence seeming to take up more space than his body. He was entrancing, enchanting, and Jensen knew he should be worried. But it was a delicious chill that ran through him, having Lex so near, knowing that he was like Jensen. Something unbidden rose up on shadowy wings inside him, fluttering around his heart, and he took a step backward, feeling his shoulders meet uneven brick wall. There was nowhere else to go, and the deepest, most primal part of him didn't want to go anywhere else. Held captive by Lex's gaze, and Jensen could nearly see answers dancing behind the brilliant fire of his eyes.

A man in a pale beige overcoat brushed against Lex, jostling them as he passed. Jensen blinked, for a moment drew back… and then those grey eyes resettled on his, momentary annoyance passed and the man forgotten. The way Lex looked at him… it was as if Lex were actually seeing him, all the way down to the core of his soul.

Jensen wasn't innocent. He'd kissed and been kissed, laid his skin bare for pleasure, tattooed sweaty rhythm against smooth sheets above and beneath the ones whom he could read so easily. But not one of them—not a single one—had ever looked at Jensen like this. They had never laid kinship and claim to him like this. 

A warning danced at the back of his mind, pirouetting along a knife blade.

"Come," Lex breathed, and took Jensen's hand, fingers lacing through his as he led Jensen around the corner of brick into a narrow alley.

They were illuminated there by the cold fluorescents at a distance, bodies cut into stark segments of black and white. Beyond them, on the main street, the world went on; shuffling feet against concrete blending with the sound of rain that was beginning to pour. Strands of hair clung to Jensen's cheeks, ends curling along his jaw bone, and before he could lift his chin, shake them back, Lex's hand moved, stroking them from Jensen's face. Rain dashed against Jensen's eyelids, tiny stars through his lashes, and he knew he should have known better—done better than this.

"What are we?" Jensen breathed, helpless to stop the words, and everything in him wanted to know so badly that it ached, pain squeezing in a tight fist around his heart. The raw emotion in his voice with those three words made him feel tiny and vulnerable, made him want to shrink and turn away from Lex, but he couldn't. He wanted—no, he _needed_ to know the truth, forcing his spine to stand straight before Lex.

 _Stand up sunflower proud_. The voice rose up from deep within Jensen's memory, lilting and feminine.

"Jack Less, my beautiful sunflower boy." Lex shook his head, those strange eyes fixed on him.

No. Lex couldn't call him that. Hackles rose on the back of Jensen's neck at the sound of the words. Lex didn't have the right to call him that.

"Stop taking my memories like they're yours to be taken. Stop reading my thoughts," Jensen told him, words edged with more anger and need than he wished they were. "Answer my question."

"Very well," Lex acquiesced with a tilt of his head, eyes never leaving Jensen's. "We are what remains," Lex replied as his hand reached to caress Jensen's cheek, bare skin of his fingertips skimming the line of bone. "Pale specters. The fragile, fractured casing of bone that was filled by marrow, once."

The feel of Lex's skin on his was heady, distracting. Fingertips light as they trailed over sensitive skin, thumb brushing the swell of his lower lip, soft as butterfly wings as they sent shivers through him.

"I don't want poetry." The words sounded feeble even to his ears, barely a protest as that glowing gaze ate him up inch by slow inch. "I want to know what we are."

Lex knew. He had to know.

"We're special, Jack," Lex said, hand sliding beneath Jensen's chin, bridge of his bare thumb catching beneath the bone, tilting Jensen's face upward to meet his eyes full on. "You… are even more special than I expected… Without a doubt, the most incredible creature I have ever encountered," he breathed, his face tilting close to angle against Jensen's. Jensen could feel Lex's breath against his lips, warm and inviting across the taste of rain.

"You are… irresistible."

Lex's eyes seemed to glow brighter in the instant before his lips touched Jensen's, and then they fluttered closed and Jensen was beyond seeing, lost in the sudden warmth and pressure of Lex's mouth against his. Jensen could feel the perfect, sweet swell of Lex's lower lip against his, his tongue swirling out behind, and Jensen opened to him. Jensen's hands reached up to close at the back of his neck, pulling him in, deeper, closer, and Jensen didn't know what it was about Lex that drew him in, but he knew he needed more.    

He felt want, bright, sharp and hard like a steel blade inside his chest, and it sliced away his worries, his fears. Questions withered away and this was all there was: Lex against him, arms closed around Jensen's waist as they wrapped him up tight and pulled Jensen to him until all that was separating them was clothing, those layers so thin and fragile. There was no intrusion of memory, his mind and body a blank canvas to be written upon, open and willing. Heat rose in Jensen's veins, his heart pounded like a thousand thundering horses, shivering beneath his skin, and all he wanted was this—Lex, and _now_.

Lex surged into him, and his mouth rolled like a wave against Jensen's. Jensen could feel him inhale; breath pulled from Jensen's lungs as he tried to gasp in surprise. Lex sought deeper still than breath, down to the tangled skein of his veins, the delicate arrangement of his organs, the very cells in his blood, like red rivers over the rocky shoals of his soul. Lex demanded, drawing outward until Jensen couldn't breathe back, felt himself flowing out through the connection of their mouths, struggling for air—and he… couldn't… He needed…

Bright flowers bloomed behind Jensen's eyelids, their neon pink and orange-green lives beginning and ending a thousand times over long, slow seconds. They were an urgent song through his mind, and then those petals faded at last to grey, swept away into utter blackness still as death.

Dark wings furled close around his heart like a lover, with a wicked whispering and a spark of almost malevolent glee. It shivered, hungry in the instant before it took him.

He was consumed, and completely.

 


	3. Chapter 3

There were faint impressions at first: hesitant, painted lines on a dark backdrop dotted with pinpricks of light. His eyelids flickered, opened and closed once. Everything was calm and serene for an instant—and then need hit him like a punch to the gut and he gasped, sucked air deep into his desperate lungs. For a moment there was only pain, razor blades that sung down the taut strings of his nerves, fire that burned the marrow of his bones to ash, his heart a knotted cluster of frozen muscle.

Jensen stood on his own two feet, his head thrown backward, and he could feel the rain, cold liquid that dripped inside his open mouth and streamed from the strands of his hair, and fog rose from the asphalt, cooling his skin. He exhaled in a rush of steam against the cold air and pulled in another rapid breath as the rain pattered against his upturned face, his hands clutched into fists at his sides. His heart felt as if it might burst, and then it jolted, beginning to pump in a furious, panicked rhythm that sent adrenaline through him far too late. He tore another ragged burst of air from the night and tilted his face forward as his gaze leveled on the scene before him.

Time seemed to slow as he focused. His vision was sharp and clear, the edges of the world cut as if from pristine glass, the alleyway a dark, straight ribbon that glittered with shards of broken bottles like tiny diamonds. Near the mouth of the alley shone twin, brilliant circles of fluorescent light that cast everything between him and them into that same sharp contrast of black and white.

Lex was lying on the ground before him, a single elbow supporting his upper body as he peeled it from the wet asphalt. Blood trickled from one corner of his mouth, so dark it looked nearly black in the light, and he reached up with his other hand and touched the trail, smearing it slightly across his chin. He gazed at his darkened fingertips, his bright eyes wide with wonder, and then his tongue flickered out to taste his bloodied skin as if the mere sight alone wasn't enough for him to understand.

"I've never met anyone like you, Jack Less," he said, with a shake of his head and breathed out slow. The timbre of his voice was pitched low, marred by the tremor of some emotion Jensen couldn't quite put a name to.

"I thought you were incredible," Lex went on as his fingers closed around the point of his chin and pushed upward and to the side as if he were gingerly testing to make sure his jaw was in place. "Magnificent. And I…" His hand was trembling lightly, and he looked at it as if in wonder. "I was right."

His eyes were wide, slack for an instant, and then they flickered upward to meet Jensen's gaze full on. "But you are more than I ever imagined."

Somewhere outside and apart from that moment, Jensen's lungs expanded and contracted in a rapid succession, his heart beat and his blood pounded, but inside… inside his mind, everything was vibrant and still, crystalline and pure… and for a split second… he almost understood.

It was there and gone in a flash, the intuition slipping beyond his grasp, and muddy waters closed over his brain, left him feeling slow and wrung out and stupid. His legs suddenly felt weak, wobbly inside the casing of their jeans, his knees quivering like jelly, and the clarity of his vision was gone. Spots of color danced before his eyes, his body was burning up like a furnace inside the leather of his jacket, his clothes soaked through with sweat and rain, and it was difficult to think.

"What… happened?" Jensen's voice was filled with jagged ridges like seismic waves, and his mind was a rush of images that didn't quite make a full picture. He had kissed Lex, hadn't he? And then…?

"I fear by the time you remember, I'll be long gone from here." Lex pressed the bare, bloody tips of his fingers against his lips and then extended them toward Jensen, blowing outward across them.

The shadows in the alley seemed to shiver and tug just out of place for an instant, like ink stains that bled over the edges of light, and Jensen blinked, trying to ward off the illusion. The world began to spin, and he had a moment to wonder if he'd hit his head somehow… and then the air around him seemed to shift with a sigh as the shadows stirred to life. They bent, folding inward upon themselves, warping black upon black that swept over Lex's features and devoured the light which cast him in three dimensions until there was nothing left but the vaguest outline of a shape. That shape held for a split second before it, too, was gone.

Jensen's eyes rolled upward in his skull and the last thing he saw was the shadows slither back into place as the light cut a neat slice down the center of the asphalt, nothing but smooth pavement visible in the spot where Lex had been only an instant before.

 

*    *    *  
  


It could have been minutes or hours later when Jensen fell to his knees, lying slumped in front of the wooden door that led up to his apartment. The world was a hazy blur of light and he wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, but he _was_ sure he had hit his head this time, if the dull ache in his forehead and blood that slowly trickled into his eyes was any indication. He was aware of these things in a dim, distant sort of way that didn't require taking full note of, like the volume turned way down on the noise of a television in the background. Of course he had hit his head. Duh. That was why he had hallucinated a guy who had disappeared into thin air earlier. No CNN Special Report required. Please drive through. Bada bing bada boom, Bob's your uncle.

That he was delirious was also not news.

But he wasn't so delirious he didn't understand what had happened before he hit his head. Lex knew _what_ he was. Better than he did. And Lex had just left with that knowledge, leaving Jensen knowing nothing about him.

Sometimes the need to move on from a town hit Jensen as a logical realization, other times it was more subtle, a vague intuition that tickled in his gut and made him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. Right then, there were alarms whooping in the back of his mind, Klaxon bells complete with red flashing lights, and this was not a drill. There was no question he needed to leave town immediately at maximum warp. Scotty should have been in the engine room working a miracle while he packed his bags.

Unfortunately, his body didn't seem to be impressed by his mental state of emergency.

"Jack? Holy shit." The voice was faint to Jensen's ears, faraway and indistinct.

He was only vaguely aware of the warm arms that encircled him, slender and strong, that same voice as it called out to someone else for help, then he was gone again, lost on waves of darkness.  
  


*    *    *

When Jensen woke again, it was to the crumbling stucco on the ceiling of his own apartment and the swirl of the thick teal, orange and gold patchwork quilt of his bed wrapped around him. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there and at that moment he didn't have the brain power to waste on working it out. The alarms were still going off inside him, and he needed to get up, start packing and get out.

"Jack?"

The familiar voice startled him from his train of thought and brought him to a complete and total halt.

Alicia moved into view above him, a cell phone clasped in one hand, its presence seemingly forgotten as she gave Jensen the tiniest of smiles. "Welcome back."

Jensen tried to respond but his mouth felt dry and gritty, like used sandpaper, and he took a moment to try and swallow, wetting his tongue as best he could. He still wasn't sure if he could speak, but he was saved the trouble of finding out as Jared appeared right behind Alicia, his expression equal parts relieved and upset.

"Are you all right?" Jared asked. "Was it that guy? Did he hurt you, Jack?" The questions tumbled out in a rush, too many and too fast and Jensen couldn't quite catch hold of them.

"Slow down, Boy Wonder." The words left Jensen in a slow slur and he touched his fingertips to his forehead.

"What he said," Alicia agreed with Jensen as she moved an arm up in front of Jared. "Give him a minute." Alicia reached down then and took Jensen's wrist in her hand, seeking out his pulse line and holding. Alicia looked at the cellphone in her other hand then, eyes focused on something on the screen for a few long moments.

“Your pulse is normal," she told Jensen after a moment. "Body temperature seems back to normal." Alicia pressed two cool fingers along Jensen's brow, and Jensen could feel the bandage along his hairline. "You've probably got a mild concussion, some cuts and bruises, but besides that, you seem fine." Alicia drew back then and gave Jensen a searching look. "I'd recommend a visit to the hospital to make it official, though."

"No," Jensen managed to say and shook his head. The movement made the room tilt at an odd angle and it took a moment to settle back into place.

Alicia arched a brow at Jensen as if she knew exactly what Jensen had just experienced, but Jensen remained firm and shook his head one more time, even though he had to swallow hard against the way it made his stomach twist.

Alicia shrugged as if to say it was Jensen's funeral. "So if we're not calling the paramedics… are we calling the police?"

"No," Jensen protested, even more vehemently.

Alicia said nothing and looked at Jensen with an expression Jensen couldn't quite read. After a moment, the woman nodded and then half-turned to look at Jared. "Jared, honey, make yourself useful and go get the boiling water off the stove."

"I thought you were finished with his cuts…" Jared trailed off and looked at Alicia in confusion.

"It's for tea," Alicia responded. "Go on now, go make some for Jack."

Jared departed for the kitchen, only gone for a minute or two before he called out, "Where's the—"

"Tea's next to the stove, sugar's next to the toaster," Alicia called back, then glanced at Jensen. "Two sugars? Three?"

"Four."

Alicia raised her brows at Jensen and then relayed the information. "And bring two cups," she added.

Alicia turned her attention fully to Jensen then. "Now. I only examined the parts of you that weren't covered by your clothes." She eyed Jensen meaningfully. "Were you hurt anywhere else?"

"No." Jensen let his lashes flutter closed for a moment and remembered the taste of rain, the feel of Lex's lips against his, and then he opened his eyes, pushed the memory from his mind. "No. It wasn't… it wasn't anything like that."

Alicia pursed her lips, then pressed them together, and folded her arms over her chest as she nodded once. "Okay then. Jared, he's gonna have some questions. Me?" Alicia lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Ain't none of my business."

Silence stretched between them for a few long seconds, and then Jared reappeared through the doorway. He presented two teacups to Alicia.

"Milk?" Alicia asked as she peered over the rims.

"There wasn't any milk," Jared admitted, like he'd failed them.

Alicia took the cups and set them on the bedside table next to Jensen. To Jared, she said, "Run down the corner and get some then."

Jared hesitated a moment, glancing at Jensen, then at Alicia, and then he nodded, heading in the direction of the door.

Jensen was confused by the whole exchange. What was the deal with the tea?

"I don't take milk in my tea," Jensen said after the apartment door closed behind Jared.

"I don't even drink tea," Alicia commented with a tilt of her head and picked up one of the cups, tipping the steaming contents into a bowl that held a vaguely pink, damp washcloth. That was probably what she had used to clean the cut on Jensen's forehead, though Jensen was confused about why Alicia was pouring tea into it after the fact.

"You mind if I smoke?" Alicia asked, pulling up a chair alongside the bed.

Jensen started to shake his head and then thought the better of it. "No."

"Bad habit," Alicia said, conversational as she pulled a half-crumpled pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket and took a seat. "Got me through pre-med, though." She chuckled. "Ironic, huh?"

"You're a doctor?" Jensen asked, surprised.

"Bachelor's degree and four years of med-school," Alicia replied, cigarette dangling from between her lips. She produced a pack of matches from the same pocket as the cigarettes and tore one off, dragging the tip across the back. "Took every scholarship and grant I could apply for," she went on, lighting up with a puff of smoke. "Decided I was gonna work in trauma, applied for my residency. I got accepted, but I never got to go."

She paused, took the cigarette between her fingers and inhaled. She exhaled after a moment and twirled the filter back and forth, examining the fiery tip. "Daddy died and Momma got sick. My brother never was good for anything. Someone had to take care of her."

"How is she now?" Jensen asked, not sure that he should ask at all.

"Momma died, too, couple years later." Alicia shrugged, like it was an old wound.

"I'm sorry," Jensen said. He knew there wasn't anything he could say that would help; whatever Alicia felt about that, she'd locked it away a long time ago, and Jensen would be intruding if he said anything more. He changed the subject instead. "You never went back to finish your residency?"

Alicia shrugged again and spread her free hand open wide, palm upward. "I was younger. I had momentum. My parents were alive." She hesitated, as if about to say something else, and then seemed to move on. "Anyway…" Alicia tilted her head and her braids rustled against her shoulders as her fingers tapped ashes precisely into the teacup. "Once you walk out on an opportunity like that… it's difficult to get back in."

"But you could…"

Alicia waved a hand through the air, and smoke curled in a trail behind the motion. "Water under the bridge, Jack. Old water."

"You can't be that old," Jensen said and tried for a teasing tone.

"Twenty-seven." Alicia spoke the words as if they cost her, as if there were time unimagined contained in those years.

"Same age as me," Jensen murmured.

Alicia looked at Jensen with a tilt of her head. "Now I know you like strange guys with weird eyes, don't like milk in your tea, and you're the same age as me. That's more in one night than I've known since you been here."

Jensen felt an invisible weight shift inside his chest, a dull, guilty ache that pressed too hard against his lungs.

Alicia seemed to appraise him. "You take it easy for the next twenty-four hours. Jared's gonna stay with you awhile. You even _think_ about going anywhere with that concussion and I'll have him tie your dumb ass to that bed. Got it?"

Jensen was too surprised to respond for an instant, but he could feel the tiniest fire of rebellion curl inside his chest.

"What happened to you ain't my business. I'm not your friend, Jack." Alicia took a long drag from her cigarette and then exhaled slowly, eyes tracking the patterns the smoke made against the air. "But I could be," she finally added. "Jared, too."

Alicia leaned over and stubbed out her cigarette inside the teacup as she cut her eyes deliberately at Jensen. "You could stick around long enough to find out. Or you can keep running from whatever you're trying to get away from. Your choice."

Jensen blinked once and was careful not to let any emotion show in his face. "What makes you think…?" He trailed off as if puzzled, and in truth, he was.

Alicia snorted. "Boy, please. You ain't fooling nobody with that drifter act."

Jensen was still trying to process that when Alicia rose to her feet and stretched. She reached down and picked up the teacup with the cigarette butt in it, rolling the smooth ceramic between her palms as she considered Jensen for a moment.

"Rest a day, maybe two. After that," Alicia said, her voice softening a notch, "you do whatever you want." She nodded once and then turned to go through the bedroom door.

Jensen swallowed and called out after her, uncertain of what he meant to say for a moment. The words, when they came, didn't seem like enough, but they were all he had.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me 'til after you see the bill," Alicia replied and chuckled over her shoulder.  
  


*    *    *  
  


Jensen heard Alicia and Jared talking before Alicia left, although he couldn't make out the words. His instincts were screaming at him to get up and get out, now, and his thoughts were still jumbled. His mind kept returning to Lex, over and over again, and he wasn't sure why he'd shared as much with the man as he had. He just knew something about Lex had drawn him in and pulled him close. Too close. The way he'd looked at Jensen, talked to him, touched him… he felt almost as if Lex had cast some sort of spell on him.

And then he'd blacked out and had hallucinated Lex being eaten by shadows when he'd woken up.

Yeah. What about that? That was new.

Jensen braced his weight on his left arm and tried to push himself to sit upright. He made it about halfway before his eyelids fluttered and the room took a sudden spin, and for an instant, it was as if he were on a carousel horse. He saw flashing images, whirring lights and motion, and sounds grew strange and slow, like a warped record playing at the wrong speed on a turntable. His elbow wobbled and gave way, and he fell back against the pillows with a light impact that was still enough to send vibrations of pain up through the back of his head. He laid there a moment, just breathing, and waited for the room to settle back into place.

Even if he'd wanted to listen to his instincts and get out, he wouldn't have physically been able to. His biggest secret had been discovered, and that alone would have been enough to send him running, but Lex was a puzzle piece he hadn't counted on, something he'd never encountered before. It was beyond curiosity, beyond fascination. He was angry, he realized. Lex had said he had answers, and Jensen wanted them. He _deserved_ them. Lex _owed_ him.

It was then that Jared walked into the room clad in faded jeans and a dazzling smile. In his hands, he held white roses and, inexplicably, a golden balloon covered in printed rainbow-colored confetti with the word 'Congratulations!' emblazoned on it in iridescent purple.

Anger momentarily took a back seat to the inexplicable.

"They had 'Get Well' balloons, but those were boring," Jared explained with a glance at the helium balloon that bobbed above his head. "So… Congratulations on your concussion!" he exclaimed and fixed Jensen with a grin as he threw his arms up and out from his body at a celebratory angle. The balloon jerked up and down sharply with the movement and a few flower petals shivered free of their moorings, and Jensen couldn't help but laugh, even though it sent pain shooting up through the base of his skull.

"I almost went with 'Happy Birthday'," Jared confessed as his arms fell back to his sides. "But I thought that might be overdoing it. It's not your birthday, is it?" he asked, going somber, as if that would have been the cruelest joke the universe could have played on him.

"No," Jensen replied and huffed out another laugh.

"Good," Jared said, and his grin regained traction on his face. "I put the milk in the fridge," he said as he jerked a thumb in that direction. "Give me a sec to find a home for these." He jiggled the flowers lightly. "And I'll be right back."

It took a few minutes, Jared rifling noisily through the kitchen before he found something, and Jensen was extremely confused the whole time. He wondered if this was normal; people appointing themselves the caretakers of others and taking up residence in their home like they'd been asked to do so. Jensen was pretty sure that wasn't how it worked. He knew it had never worked like that for him before, and he had never wanted it to work differently. He traveled light and alone for a reason.

The sound of Jared's footsteps approached from down the hall, and Jensen wriggled up on the bed, situating his back and neck against the pillows more comfortably, and folded his arms across his chest. Jared set the flowers on the table nearby, their stems squeezed into a narrow, tall glass filled with water. Jared settled in the chair off to one side, and he didn't sit so much as sprawl. His shoulders just touched the back of the chair and his back angled outward and away to the seat, his legs stretched out nearly straight to his heels.

"So," Jared said and laced his fingers together across his stomach. His thumbs traced light patterns against each other. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, really," Jensen insisted with more force than was strictly necessary.

Jared, for his part, didn't seem offended. "Okay. Do you want to talk about what happened?" He seemed calmer than he had when Jensen had first woken. "Because if he hurt you, Jack…"

"He didn't," Jensen said, almost offhand, too busy gearing up for what he needed to say next. "Listen, Jared, I appreciate your kindness. Thank you for everything, the sentiment is sweet but—"

"The balloon was too much, wasn't it? I knew I should've gone with a card." Jared spoke the words as if he were chastising himself and Jensen couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "I always go overboard. It's a flaw."

"No," Jensen said, flustered. "It's just… I can take care of myself."

"Does that mean other people aren't allowed to help sometimes?" Jared asked, and there wasn't a trace of playfulness in his tone.

The words struck Jensen like an arrow through the chest, sudden and piercing, and left him momentarily wordless. If Jared had been even slightly less earnest, if there had been even a trace of sarcasm in the words… but there hadn't been. For a moment Jensen felt guilty, small and shamed by Jared's question. Jensen started to reply, trying on and discarding different phrases several times before he finally sighed and decided on honesty. "Why should you care?"

"It's another flaw," Jared replied with the light-hearted authenticity Jensen thought he may have patented as a child, it seemed so natural and so uniquely his. He paused and Jensen resisted the urge to glance at him. "I have a lot of them," Jared added after a moment, and Jensen could hear the smile in his voice.

"For instance," Jared went on as he shifted his position in the chair slightly, "I have this flaw where I ignore people telling me they don't need help. That one's gotten me into trouble a few times," he noted and Jensen could see him nod in his peripheral vision. "But," he sucked a breath in through the side of his mouth, letting it whistle through his teeth as he considered, "it _is_ a flaw, and I doubt I'm gonna fix it anytime soon. Seems like wayyyyy too much work."

Jared chuckled and Jensen was amused despite himself.

"And if someone didn't actually need your help?" Jensen asked as the ghost of a smile played about his lips.

"I'm sorry," Jared said and coughed into his hand once, loudness exaggerated. "Did you say something?"

Jensen could have pressed the issue. He could have gotten angry, told Jared to get out, and he would have gone. Probably he would have gone right across the hall and called Alicia. Not that either of them could have stopped Jensen from leaving if he'd wanted to. But there were other things to consider; like the throbbing in his head and how the room spun whenever he tried to move. And then there was Jared; Jared and his open expression, his guileless eyes, and his beautiful, bright, burning soul.

_Such a genuine spirit, it almost makes him a mystery._ Lex's words echoed in Jensen's mind.

Jensen had a soft spot for him, he knew. Whether it was Jared's genuine kindness or that Jensen had seen his soul, or both, Jensen wasn't sure.

He couldn't leave yet, even if he'd wanted to—and he was no longer sure that he did want to leave. It wouldn't be long until he healed fully though, and he would need to be careful about that. He didn't understand why, but ever since he'd discovered the ability to see people's memories, he'd begun to heal rapidly—much, _much_ faster than anyone should have been able to. Usually, he didn't have to worry about anyone noticing. Usually, he didn't stay around the same people or in one location long enough for it to present a problem. But with Jared and Alicia around he would have to keep wearing the bandage over nothing for at least a week to maintain the illusion of healing at the rate of a normal person. It seemed like an easy enough solution to any potential problem.

Through the gauzy aqua curtains of his bedroom, Jensen could see the sky was lightening; sharp, squat shapes of buildings that had begun to stand out from an indigo background, and the stars had grown faint and faded. He could already hear the traffic beginning to pick up on the streets, and soon the sun would be up, moving people along through their day. If he were going to be stuck in bed all day, he might as well have company. Besides, if Jared wanted to help him, he had something in mind.

"Fine," Jensen said and sighed with mock-exaggeration, corner of his mouth quirking upward. "But if you're going to stay, there is something you can help me with."

"Ooh," Jared said, playful. "The plot thickens."

"The guy I was with, Lex. I need to find him."

"Why?" Jared asked, sounding perplexed, bordering on angry. "Jack, I don't know what happened, but I know you got hurt and the guy didn't help you get back home."

Jensen hesitated, his mouth opening and closing once before he replied. "I can't really explain."

There was a long silence as Jared took that in. "Can't?" he finally asked. "Or won't?"

"It's complicated."

"That's all I get? A Facebook status?"

"I know it's vague." Jensen bit down on the inside of his cheek. He knew it wasn't much, but it was all he could give Jared without Jared thinking he was completely insane.

Jared shifted in his chair, jaw flexing as he seemed to bite down on his first reply. It was a moment before he went on. "So you expect me to just help you? Without knowing why? Or even asking you any questions?"

Jared had been so good to Jensen, so kind. Jensen already felt guilty enough. "You don't have to."

"Truth is, I'm kind of used to it," Jared muttered and sighed. Then he shrugged. "All right. What do you need me to do?"

Jensen wasn't sure why Jared had agreed to help—maybe Jared really was that good of a person—but he wasn't going to question it. Not when unlocking that door might have meant he'd have to open a few of his own.

"You know the area, and people here," Jensen said. "Had you seen him before?"

"I remember thinking I'd never seen him before," Jared said as his brows drew together in a frown. "But I can't…" Jared shook his head. "I can't remember exactly what he looked like."

Jensen trained his eyes upon Jared, confused. "Brown skin, pale gray eyes, platinum hair… you don't remember?"

Jared frowned more deeply, and he seemed to think hard before he finally heaved out a sigh. "No. I see a lot of people, working a bar. That sounds like someone I should remember. But I don't. Just an impression." Jared squinted as he concentrated. "He was… well dressed… I think?"

"Extremely," Jensen agreed. "I remember thinking his coat was so well fitted that it must have been tailored to him."

Jared's eyes rushed to meet Jensen's as he sat forward. "So he goes to a tailor shop, maybe. If he looks like you say, someone would have to remember him. And there are only…" Jared pulled out his phone and thumbed in words at breakneck speed. After a moment, he sighed and fell back into his chair. One hand rose and cupped the back of his neck. "Thirty-six tailor shops in DC."

It was a possible way to find him. It was a possible way to more answers than Jensen had at that moment.  

"So we call them all," Jensen said as a plan began to take shape inside his mind. "Ask if they've ever seen a gentleman by his description."

"And why would they tell us that?" Jared asked, puzzled.

"Because he referred us to them, of course," Jensen said with a smirk.  
  


*    *    *  
  


"So, yes," Jensen said into the phone as his pen sketched idle symbols against a page in his notebook. "It's a very large wedding party and we'd like to have everything fitted by the best. You know… that man with brown skin and pale eyes who comes there for fittings? Good looking. Really nice guy. Recommended you. Oh, darn, what was his name? Lance… Les?"

Jensen tried two dozen places before the person on the other end supplied the correct name for him.

"Lex?" the woman asked, and her tone warmed slightly. "Yes, we know him quite well here." There was a momentary pause, and then she went on as if conferring a great secret, "As a business, we don't normally serve wedding parties. You understand. We like to take the time to focus on our customers as individuals. Wedding parties are a bit… bloated. But if Lex recommended you to us then we may be able to reserve a block of time for you."

Jensen swallowed hard, throat clicking a few times before he told the woman he'd have to get back to her. The woman seemed less than impressed as Jensen hung up.

Jared cut his eyes to Jensen's across the side of his own phone call. "No, I think chiffon is absolutely the way to go. Give Muffy all my best," he said, and then blew a kiss into the phone. "Be brilliant, Justine."

Jared hung up and tilted his head to look at Jensen. "What did you find out?"

"Saves Nine Tailor Shop," Jensen said. "That's it. That's the place."

Jared's teeth tugged at the corner of his mouth before he replied. "Well, you found him. So now what?"

"I don't know," Jensen said. "I didn't expect we'd get this far. I guess I could… sit outside eternally, waiting for him to show up for another fitting?" he asked, mock-hopeful.

"And you started out so well with the ideas," Jared chastised him with a grin.  
  


*    *    *  
  


The woman Jensen had spoken with at the Saves Nine Tailor Shop went by the unlikely name of Charisma Carrington. Jared played the part of the other groom-to-be, following up on his fiancé's earlier call, and Jensen watched as Jared used his charm to reserve them a block of time the next time Lex came in so that they could not only thank him but give him an invitation to the wedding. After all, Lex had referred them to such a high-quality tailor shop who'd taken the time to fit them in when they didn't normally take wedding parties.  

"It's the least we can do to thank him. Thanks, Charisma," Jared said, smile filling his voice before he hung up.

"I'm impressed," Jensen admitted.

Jared motioned to himself with a flourish, as if showing himself off. "That's what friends are for."

"Friends?" Jensen echoed.

"You say the word like you're not sure what it means." Jared laughed, and then he stopped, looking at Jensen intently. "You… do have friends?"

"Not… not in a long time," Jensen said.

"Well, now you do again."

Friends. Jared made it sound so simple. Did friends keep secrets like the ones Jensen was keeping from Jared? Hell, Jared didn't even know his real name. For a moment, Jensen longed to hear his true name, the syllables rolling off Jared's tongue, unspoken for so long Jensen barely remembered the sound.

He couldn't tell Jared his name, but maybe he could tell Jared some of the truth. Maybe Jared deserved to know some of it after the way he'd helped Jensen. Jensen laid there for long moments, debating the wisdom of it, deciding how much, if anything, he should say.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," Jared commented.

Jensen laced his fingers together across his belly. "You asked about the reason I need to find Lex."

"I thought you didn't want to tell me? Or couldn't."

Jensen tongued at the inside of his cheek, mouth feeling dry. He couldn't tell Jared everything, but maybe he could tell him a little—maybe just enough. "I need Lex to tell me what happened in that alley. I need to know what happened to me. Why he… ran away."

"How do you mean?" Jared asked, confused.

Jensen worked his fingers back and forth inside the latticework where his hands met and eyed them intently while he gathered his thoughts. "We were talking… and then we kissed…" Jensen squeezed his hands together in a single fist and then slowly relaxed his palms against his stomach. "And then I don't remember what happened."

"Don't remember?" Jared echoed, a slight frown marring his brow.

Jensen had never told anyone this part, not even Lex, and every instinct he had was telling him to stop. But it was strangely compelling, to start down this road, to begin to tell the truth.

"I…" Jensen hesitated, trying to decide how to explain. "I have these moments where I… black out."

"Like seizures?" Jared asked and leaned forward in his chair with an expression of concern.

"No," Jensen replied, as he thought it over. "I don't think so. It's just like… I come out of the moment and I can't remember what happened for a minute or two before." _Or an hour, or half the night_ , he thought but didn't add. _And sometimes I see things_.

"Is it… is it a medical condition?"

"I don't know," Jensen admitted. "I haven't been to a doctor about it. But Lex was there; he can tell me exactly what happened."

Jared took a long, silent moment to think that over, muscle in his jaw flexing with tension. "Okay. I get why you need to find this guy. But finding him doesn't sound like the real solution. Jack…" Jared paused, and for a moment he seemed at a loss for how to say what he wanted to say. "This sounds pretty serious."

Jensen knew how it sounded. It sounded like maybe he had some kind of mental illness, possibly a brain tumor, and that would have explained a lot of the otherwise inexplicable shit he'd thought he'd seen. Hell, sometimes he had wished it were a tumor; as terrible as that would have been, at least it would have been normal, possibly treatable. He would have believed it was that if it weren't for the fact that he could touch people and see their memories. There was nothing in any kind of known medical illness that could be attributed to that, though, unless he started questioning whether or not that was real too.

_You did see him dissolve into shadows._

Shit. Maybe he was just sick and needed help. He reached a shaky hand to touch his temple, suddenly uncertain of what was real and what wasn't, and felt as if he were about to fall down a rabbit hole.

"Jack. Hey, hey, Jack," Jared said, his voice gentle, and Jensen could see Jared reach for his hand. Jared stopped at the last second, drew back and ducked his head instead as he tried to catch Jensen's eyes with his own. "It's okay. We'll talk to this guy and see what he knows. Get some rest for now. You look shaky as hell."

Jared was gorgeous in the morning light peeking in through the curtains, hazel eyes shining, hair glinting nearly gold. He looked like kindness and comfort and sanity; like all the things Jensen didn't feel. On impulse, Jensen reached out and grabbed Jared's hand, squeezing it tight within his.

// _First fumbling kiss. His chin is rough with stubble, but his mouth is hot, open and welcoming. Taste of cigarette smoke, something bitterer beneath, but it's sweet, too, and Jared tightens his arms around Nick, pulls him in closer, hungry and needing_ //

For an instant, Jensen was lost in Jared, feeling the kiss, the intensity of need, and then, with an effort, he let go of Jared. Jensen pulled his hand away and rolled his fingers against his palm, uncertain of why he'd touched Jared. The vision melted from his mind, but he could still imagine it, still feel the sensation of it, too close, too real.

"You… you touched me?" Jared asked, seeming surprised.

Jensen nodded, not quite able to speak.

"I thought you were… Sorry, but I thought you were touch-phobic."

Touch-phobic: that was one way of putting it.

"It… it takes time for me to get used to people," Jensen said.

Jared nodded as if he understood that, although there was no way he could have known what Jensen actually meant. Jared's expression was warm, open, and he had no idea what Jensen had just seen, of what Jensen had stolen from him. A lock of brown hair fell forward across Jared's eyes, and he pushed it back behind one ear, smiled with that boyish charm. "All right, then. Get some rest, Jack. I'll be here when you wake up."

Jensen did feel tired, eyelids drifting closed on the image of Jared kissing another man. It was stolen, taken without permission, but at least it was a pleasant image, Jensen thought, just before he fell asleep.

 

*    *    *  
  


When Jensen woke, it was late afternoon, according to the slant of the sunlight that cut in through the window, falling in a bright yellow square across his comforter. Hours had passed, but Jared was still sitting in the chair, massive shoulders hunched over a book.

"What are you reading?" Jensen asked as he stretched. There was a glass of water without flowers in it on the nightstand and Jensen reached for it, taking a sip.

"Oh good, you're awake," Jared said and smiled at him before he looked down at the open pages again. "I found this old box of books in storage the other day, buried behind a bunch of the older doors my grandfather made. I think this one's a sales ledger."

Jared flipped the book shut and Jensen could see the outside of it was old and worn, its old-fashioned woven casing white and fraying in places.

"And you're reading a sales ledger because…?" Jensen tried turning his head, gingerly testing for pain. He felt a slight twinge shoot up the back of his neck, but it seemed far better than it had earlier.

"Well, it's weird," Jared said as he opened the book again. "Because there are numbers, but they don't exactly look like prices. And some of them have addresses listed, but others just have names. Like this one." He pointed. "The Hanging Garden."

Jensen frowned, searching his memory. "Isn't that a mythical place?"

"Babylonian, supposedly," Jared agreed, "though no one has ever found evidence to support an actual location. I'm guessing it's the name of the business he sold the door to."

"Probably a local nursery or something."

"Yeah, probably," Jared agreed.

"Sounds like riveting reading," Jensen remarked, wry.

"I know, right?" Jared smirked, then lifted one shoulder, shifting in the chair. "It's curiosity, I guess. When I don't understand something I…"

"Take it as a personal challenge?" Jensen asked.

"That probably explains a lot about me, huh?" Jared asked with a wide grin.

"You're assuming I didn't already know this about you," Jensen responded, smirking back.

"It's why I love history," Jared said, after a moment. "I like knowing how and why things happened." He paused and then chuckled. "Which is why I also have a ton of useless knowledge at my disposal. You ever end up in a Trivial Pursuit death-match, I'm the guy you want on your team."

Jensen was about to respond to that when a sharp knock sounded on the apartment door.

"Must be Alicia," Jared said as he pushed up from the chair.

Jensen watched Jared amble from the room, eyes lingering on the way Jared's jeans clung to his body. A moment later, Jared returned carrying a large brown bag, Alicia just behind him, plastic containers in each of her hands filled with what looked like soup.

"So how's my patient?" Alicia asked as she sat the containers down on the nightstand.

"Better," Jensen replied.

"See Jared didn't have to tie you down," she remarked with a smirk. "Guess he didn't drive you that crazy."

"Just a little crazy," Jensen said, holding his thumb and forefinger apart to show how much.

Alicia chuckled and then frowned as she focused on Jensen. "I need to change that for you." The thin silver chain around Alicia's wrist gleamed in the sunlight as she reached for the bandage covering Jensen's forehead.

Jensen reached up without thinking, catching her by the arm. His fingers flexed against her skin and he released her almost instantly, waving her off. "I can do it myself," he insisted. "I need to use the bathroom anyway."

Alicia narrowed her eyes at him and then shook her head, braids rusting around her shoulders as she returned her attention to the soup containers. "When it gets infected don't come crying to me."

Jared had set the brown bag on the chair and was digging through it, sifting through styrofoam containers, and Jensen could hardly mistake the aroma of Chinese food filling the air. It made his mouth water, and suddenly he realized how hungry he was.

"I'll be fine," Jensen assured Alicia. He moved slowly, testing for pain as he slid his legs across the bed and down the side, toes touching the floor. The muscles in the back of his neck still ached slightly, and he felt woozy, like the room hadn't quite settled right beneath his feet as he rose, but his legs seemed steady enough, and his vision was clear. He picked up the gauze and medical tape, aware of Alicia's eyes watching his movements intently, and shuffled his way slowly to the bathroom.

He flicked on the light and stepped inside, closing the door on the sound of Alicia and Jared discussing the division of the wonton soup. The reflection of his face in the mirror was pale, and he looked strange to himself without colored contacts in—felt very nearly naked—but other than that he seemed none the worse for the wear. He leaned across the porcelain sink and peeled back the gauze, already knowing what he would see.

The skin of his forehead was puffy near the wound and the cut itself was a raw shade of dark pink, skin already beginning to knit together around a slight scab in the center. By tomorrow, he knew, the scab would be gone, cut faded to light pink, tissue almost completely repaired, and the day after that the skin would be perfect, as if he'd never been hurt at all. The pain in his head had lessened to almost nothing, only the barest twinge as he craned his neck, eyeing his reflection all the while.

He didn't see much point in cleaning the cut since his body would heal any infection that might have gained a foothold, and simply changed the gauze instead, smoothing tape down around the edges of the pad. He surveyed his work for a moment in the mirror and then gathered his supplies, flipping off the light behind him.

"Jared went to get some sleep," Alicia informed him as he entered the bedroom. "He said he'll stop back after the club closes." She was finishing setting up the containers and soup as best she could on the small nightstand, plastic forks and spoons set on top of the styrofoam last.

She turned to survey Jensen then, giving him a quick once over with her gold-hazel eyes. "No way in hell you cleaned it that fast," she admonished, stepping closer to him.

He'd been too quick. Shit, she knew he'd been too quick.

"I did," Jensen said, trying to wave her off with the box of gauze.

Alicia dodged around the motion of his hand, almost too quickly for him to track, and Jensen realized he was in trouble. She would pull the bandage up, take one look and then she would know he wasn't normal. Panic seized him, stomach clenching, heart thudding sideways, and his mind lunged, fumbling for a way out of the situation.

"No really, I'm fine," Jensen insisted, spinning to avoid Alicia's hands. The sudden motion cost him, head not prepared for the abrupt movement, and fresh pain burst inside his forehead, nearly blinding him for a moment.

"Dammit, Jack. Let me see," Alicia growled and grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him back around. Jensen only had an instant to marvel at the strength in the woman's hands, and then Alicia peeled back the bandage.

Jensen clapped a hand over the space where the gauze had been, but he knew it was too late, could tell by the suddenly slack muscles in Alicia's face. An instant later Alicia's brows contracted, her eyes going wide and stunned, and she dropped the bandage, pressing her fingers against her lips.

"I…" Jensen didn't have any idea what to say. Whatever he'd had here, whatever meager friendship he'd begun to cultivate, it had just come to an end. It had been a long time since he'd felt loss, and he hadn't realized he was still capable of feeling it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, instead of the excuses he would have normally offered.

Alicia's eyes flicked back up to focus on his, and slowly, carefully, she peeled her fingers away from her mouth. Her lips moved as if to form words, and then she stopped, frowning again.

"I know it's weird, but I can explain," Jensen began, wondering if he really could. "Okay, maybe I can't explain," he amended, "because even I don't understand it, but I swear it's nothing bad. At least I don't think it is. I don't know. I'm sorry."

Still Alicia said nothing, staring at Jensen for long, seemingly eternal seconds in silence.

"Please say something," Jensen breathed out in a rush.

When Alicia finally did speak, Jensen was in no way prepared for what she said.


	4. Chapter 4

"I didn't think anybody else could heal as fast as me." Alicia's voice was low, barely above a whisper and filled with awe.

The words twisted and spun inside Jensen's mind, floating free and lacking meaning. Silence stretched out between them, long moments that seemed to last forever before Jensen found his voice.

"What?" Jensen asked, certain he'd misunderstood.

Alicia's lips were the color of red wine, parted around her perfect white teeth as she stared at him. There was wonder in her wide, hazel eyes—wonder and disbelief and something else Jensen didn't understand yet—but there was no trace of fear in them. She blinked for the first time since she'd pulled the bandage off and took a step closer to him.

"I've never seen anyone else heal like… like me." Alicia tilted her head slightly to the side as she reached out, fingers tentative in the instant before they touched the hand Jensen held pressed against his forehead.

Jensen held his hand there a moment longer and then let it fall away to his side. At the edge of his vision, Alicia's fingers fluttered like the wings of a restless bird, not quite touching the raw skin on his forehead.

"You heal… quickly? Like me?" Jensen asked, feeling slow and stupid.

Alicia nodded once, her eyes still wide. "Too fast. Faster than any… normal person I've ever known. Never seen anyone else who could until now."

He'd expected her to be frightened, to be horrified, but when her fingers wilted like flower petals and she withdrew her hand, he saw nothing of revulsion in her face and everything like curiosity.

"How?" she asked.

It was such a simple question, such a sane one; Jensen wished he had simple or sane answers, or even any answers at all. For just a fraction of a second, he had hoped maybe she could tell _him_.

"I don't know." Jensen shook his head, his mind racing. Jensen had spent his whole life without meeting anyone with abilities like him, and now he'd met two people in less than two days time. 

_This can't be coincidence, can it?_ he wondered. But if it wasn't coincidence, then what was it? Fate? Something far more sinister?

"I've been like this since I was a teenager," he said, after a moment. "What about you?"

Alicia eyed him as if she were gauging something, and then she said, "You're healed enough that you don't need to be in bed. Help me grab the food."

Perplexed, Jensen helped her wordlessly, following her out to the dining counter where they deposited the containers. They sorted the food into bowls and onto plates and then settled on stools on opposite sides of the counter, facing each other.

Alicia swirled lo mein noodles around the tines of her fork, staring down at the contents of her plate while Jensen spooned out a sip of wonton soup.

"I like you, Jack," Alicia said, glancing up at him. "And I ain't never met anybody else like me. So I'm gonna tell you the truth. But after I tell you mine, you're gonna tell me yours, because that's how this works, understand?"

Jensen thought about that for a few seconds, and then he nodded.

"I told you about wanting to be a doctor, and how I gave it up," Alicia began in a slow, measured tone. "But I didn't tell you the whole story." She set down her fork, abandoning the pretense of eating. "I quit before my residency to take care of my momma, that's true. But not long after, I was in a car accident. My right hand was crushed," she said, holding it up before her face. "I had to go to the same hospital I was interning at for treatment. They told me there was nerve damage—permanent nerve damage. That the bones in my hand would never heal right. And I thought…" she exhaled a breath, "well, that's it then. I'll never be a surgeon. Be lucky if I can ever write my own name again."

Jensen thought he was beginning to understand. "But then it healed."

Alicia nodded. "Healed like the accident never happened. Didn't even leave a scar. It happened in days. I couldn't go back to the hospital for my follow up appointment, and it was on record that I'd crushed my hand. If anyone ever knew, found out about that… I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk going back and someone finding out I was…" 

"A freak?" Jensen asked with a thin smile.

"Don't know if that's the word I'd use," Alicia said with a frown and then shrugged. She closed her hand into a loose fist and then reopened it, wiggling her fingers. "That was when I… I knew I was different after that. Almost like the trauma triggered it."

Jensen could sense she was leaving something unsaid, and he leaned forward across his bowl, soup forgotten. "Healing fast isn't the only thing you can do, is it?"

Alicia flexed her hand, watching the movement of tendon and bone, and then, very slowly, she said, "I understand movement. Energy. People in a crowd or alone, I know how they're going to move the instant before they do. Like intuition. And I'm strong, Jack. I'm very…" She picked up the fork from her plate. "Very…" She squeezed it and the handle shattered. "Strong." 

The top of the fork fell to the countertop amidst a rain of metal fragments. Alicia picked several metal shards from the palm of her hand and then swept the entire mess into a pile on one side of her plate. She dusted her hands and planted her elbows on the counter, fingers lacing together in a single fist upon which she placed her chin as she stared Jensen down.

"Now you," she said.

Jensen huffed out a breath in surprise, and then laughter bubbled up from his chest, erupting full blown. It left him like relief, carrying an edge of hysteria with it, and by the time it had run its course, there were tears in the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away as his stream of chuckles slowly bubbled to a halt, like champagne going flat.

"You done?" Alicia asked, arching a brow at him. She was clearly unamused.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice still weak and raspy from laughing. "It's just… all these years, all this time… I thought I was the only one and now… you."

"Yeah." Alicia nodded. "It's a lot for me, too."

It struck him then that Alicia had probably been wrestling with the same demons, the same loneliness, for years. He'd never thought he'd have to explain this to someone, never thought he'd have an opportunity or reason to do so, and he'd certainly never thought he'd be explaining it to someone who was like him.

With an effort, Jensen straightened on his stool and composed himself, clearing his throat. He leaned his elbows down against the counter, mirroring Alicia's posture, and tried to pull his thoughts together. 

"I was in a car accident, too. Ten years ago, when I was seventeen." His mind rolled back through the years, flash of a pale gray memory that descended into darkness. "I don't remember everything that happened," he said, and that was true, but what little he _did_ remember he didn't plan to share. "But afterward I healed very quickly, like you. And I realized I could… When I touched people, I could see their memories, like they were my own." 

"You see people's memories?" Alicia asked, skeptical.

Jensen nodded. "And sometimes I have these moments where I blank out and don't remember what happened. Like last night in the alley with Lex. I remember kissing him and then…" Jensen shook his head and slowly pulled his hands apart, turning them palm upwards. "And then I blanked out. The next thing I remember, he was on the ground with a bloody lip and I felt like I was gonna pass out. And that's not all. Lex was like me… like _us_ ," he amended, finding the word sat strange upon his tongue. "He could read people's thoughts, and after I kissed him and he was on the ground he…" Jensen took a deep breath, and of all the crazy things he had said so far, this by far seemed the craziest. "He dissolved into the shadows."

"Was this before or after you hit your head?" Alicia asked, straight-faced.

"Before."

Alicia shifted her weight back and forth on the stool, the slight creaking noise of wood the only sound in the apartment. Jensen expected her to call him crazy or tell him there was no way he'd seen a man dissipate into shadow, but all she said was:

"So there's more like us."

Jensen nodded again. "And he says he knows what we are—why we're the way we are."

"Did he?" Alicia seemed skeptical again. "And did he tell you?"

Jensen sighed and shook his head. "He made some weird poetic comments about us being what remained."

"Remained of what?" Alicia inquired.

"He didn't say."

"So we have to find him."

"Jared and I already tracked him down. We're supposed to catch him at the Saves Nine Tailor Shop tomorrow."

"Oh, honey." Alicia shook her head. "No. No, no, no. You keep Jared out of this mess."

"I don't want him in it," Jensen admitted. "But he helped me find Lex and he knows when the appointment is."

"That's all right," Alicia said with a wave of her hand. "We'll just tell him I'm going with you instead."

Jensen just looked at her for a moment. "You want to come with me?" 

"Way I see it, we're in this together now," Alicia said. "I want to know what we are as much as you do, Jack."

Jensen wasn't used to having allies, and he wasn't sure how he felt about Alicia being part of this. One thing he did know was that although he didn't know her well, he definitely trusted her more than he'd trusted Lex.

"Three of us, now," Jensen mused. "There could be dozens, maybe hundreds more. It seems weird… Wouldn't we have heard about others by now? It seems like it would be tough to keep this a secret."

"It's not like we've been telling anybody about our abilities," Alicia contradicted. "This is why you didn't wanna go to the hospital, right?"

 It wasn't the whole reason, but it was part of the reason, and the most Jensen was willing to admit to right then. He nodded in confirmation.

"Does Jared know?" he asked after a moment. "About you?"

"No." Alicia ran a hand over her braids, drawing them back over one shoulder. "And he's normal, far as I can tell. Unless you count the way people fall all over his ass whenever he shakes it. But I'm pretty sure that's just him."

"You don't think he'd understand?" Jensen asked.

"I think it's better to keep him out of it until we know more," Alicia said, rebuffing Jensen gently. "This could be dangerous."

"And you think we'll be safe?" Jensen frowned, confused.

"No. But I think the less people that can get hurt the better."

Jensen didn't want _anyone_ to get hurt, but she made a good point. The image of a young boy rolling in the grass with a golden retriever passed behind Jensen's eyes as he thought of Jared, and something in his mind clicked into place. Jensen blinked, looking at Alicia as he suddenly realized. "When I was hurt and you touched me, I didn't see any of your memories." 

Alicia regarded him curiously for a moment, and then she shrugged. "Don't know nothing about any of that."

It might not mean much to her, but it was a huge realization for Jensen. "I have to focus to control my ability. If someone catches me off guard I see their memories without even trying. But not with you. When you were taking my pulse I didn't see anything. It was the same way with Lex. I couldn't see his memories when I touched him, except for when he let me."

"I can sense you," Alicia said after a moment. "Your… energy."

"So your power works on me, Lex's power works on me. But mine doesn't work on you, or Lex." Jensen turned that over in his head.

Alicia pursed her lips, thoughtful. "I don't know what that means. But the fast healing, that's an ability we share. Maybe something we all have."

"Maybe," Jensen agreed. There were so many things he didn't understand. He leveled his elbows against the counter, leaning forward. "What do you think we are?" he asked, meeting Alicia's gaze head on.

"Hell if I know." Alicia replied, and then paused. She opened her mouth as if about to say something more, seeming troubled, and then she closed it again. She looked down at the remains of the fork next to her plate, and then she finally went on, her tone thoughtful. "When I was a kid, I used to dress up like Wonder Woman—had a bathing suit with the outfit printed on it, and I used to make the tiara and the bracelets out of aluminum foil. I wanted to be a superhero so bad." A faint smile tugged at the corners of her downturned mouth. She paused and sobered, her expression darkening as she spoke again. "But when I was a kid, I was also afraid of monsters. And I used to think… the monsters have powers, too. They could be superheroes. But they're not, because they're bad."

She hesitated, and the hush between them grew heavy.

"Sometimes I feel like a superhero, but sometimes… I wonder." Alicia was silent for a moment and then she slid open the drawer next to her seat and withdrew another fork. She held it up, looking at Jensen between the tines for a moment. 

"Maybe we're the monsters, Jack," she said, never taking her eyes from him as she let the fork fall from the upright position to catch it between her fingers in the proper eating position. "You ever think about that?"

It seemed like a long time before Jensen could peel his tongue from the roof of his mouth to respond. 

"Only all the time." 

_My beautiful darling boy_ , Jensen thought, and shivered.

 

*    *    *

 

After they ate and cleaned up, Jensen replaced the bandage on his forehead, smoothing down the tape around the edges. He'd have to keep the illusion up for Jared's sake at least, he thought, and felt a momentary pang of guilt. Jared had been so helpful, supportive and understanding; lying to him now seemed wrong somehow. If it kept Jared safe, Jensen was willing to do it, but it didn't feel right, which was odd in and of itself. Jensen hadn't had an issue with lying about his abilities, or his name, or pretty much anything for the last decade—why should this be any different?

_Maybe it's different because you care._

Jensen ran a hand across the bandage one last time and then covered his eyes, taking a deep breath. He couldn't afford to care. It wasn't as if he could make ties and set down roots here. Depending on what he found out from Lex tomorrow, he might be gone from here before another twenty-four hours was up. And even if he wasn't, he'd be gone in a few weeks at most. If he stayed too long he'd start _seeing_ things again, and he'd black out, and then the dreams would come…

Better to be gone before that could happen.

He heard the knock at his apartment door, and then Alicia and Jared's voices as Jared came inside.

Jensen sighed and let his hand fall to his side, then reached up and flipped off the light switch.

They didn't stay long since they both had to go work downstairs, and Jensen spent most of the evening in relative solitude, watching subtitled shows, foot tapping along absently to the rhythm of bass from beneath his feet. Jared checked back in after the club closed, but he didn't linger long, not even leaving the hallway.

"Sweet dreams, Jack," Jared said with a smile and then blew him a quick kiss.

Jensen closed the door and stood there for a minute, fingers rubbing absently at the bandage on his forehead, feeling somehow both relieved and disappointed that Jared had been quick.

He shook his head, rolled his eyes at himself, and went to bed.

  


*     *    *  


Alicia came to his apartment early in the afternoon the next day, dressed in form-fitting, pale blue denim, a plain gray t-shirt and white tennis shoes underneath a long, gray coat. Her braids were pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. Jensen blinked at her, not sure he'd ever seen her quite so averagely dressed. When she wasn't working, Alicia tended to favor dresses with leggings and low heels, or jeans with fashionable flats and short sleeved blouses. She didn't dress with the high fashion flair of someone like Lex, but it was a step above most people's efforts.

"No telling what we're walking into," she said, off Jensen's look. "I figured I'd dress for running."

It seemed like a sound idea to Jensen; unfortunately he didn't own a pair of tennis shoes, so his usual motorcycle boots would have to do. Dressed in his own pair of faded jeans with the knees wearing thin and a Sex Pistols t-shirt, he shrugged into his leather jacket and they went on their way.

Jensen hadn't made much use of the DC Metro since he'd been here, but it was similar to the New York subway system in a lot of ways. Cleaner and generally safer, but structured much the same way. They rode to the Rhode Island Avenue stop in Northeast, taking the escalator back up to the street amidst people mostly dressed in business suits and casual office wear, backpacks on their shoulders or wheeled luggage bags pulled behind.

The streets were lined with neatly space trees and attractive buildings made of stone and metal and glass in shades from silver to smoke rose up on either side. It lacked the soul and character of U Street, but it was a respectable, if boring business district.

Against the stone wall of a building, a homeless white man sat wrapped in an oversized jacket, its ratty yellow material faded to a dingy mustard color. His gray hair was thin, limp and dirty, swept back against his skull, and his features were deeply lined with wrinkles. His blue eyes were set deep in his long, pointed face and they were benign as they passed over Jensen and Alicia, dull and uninterested.

The man seemed unremarkable as they approached him, and then, the air began to vibrate. Black spots spun out, darting like fireflies around the man, beginning to glow red at the edges as they circled threateningly. Jensen tried to tear his eyes away, heart trip hammering in his chest, his feet frozen to the ground. Energy buzzed around the man, black and red like a swarm of angry bees. Jensen could hear it humming and snapping against the air like the sound of hungry teeth. The man's skin flashed and flickered over bone like a bad frame in a film, and Jensen moved at last, recoiling from the sight of him, making a noise of revulsion. 

"Jack—what?" Alicia stopped and turned, concern etched into her face as she grabbed Jensen by the shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Jensen yanked his shoulder from her grip and turned, sprinting back down the city block the way they had come. He slammed into a young man wearing a green corduroy hat and a pair of iPhone headphones, stumbling and nearly toppling them both to the concrete before pushing past and running on. Two blocks, then three, and then he turned into the relative quiet of an alleyway, stopping and letting his back thud against the painted cinder block wall. His chest heaved as he slid down to the ground, knees pushing up against his chest, and he dragged his fingers through the strands of his cobalt hair, gripping and pulling tight. 

It was a few minutes before Alicia found him like that, pulled practically into the fetal position upright against the wall, and she approached him slowly, crouching down in front of him.

"Jack?" she asked. She reached out to touch him and Jensen flinched away on instinct.

He shut his eyes tight and yanked on the length of his hair, trying to drive the sound of humming from his brain.

"Jack." Alicia's voice was soft, prodding at him gently.

Heart pounding in his chest, lungs gasping for air in a way that had nothing to do with the short sprint he'd made getting here, he ignored her. His mind seemed to flutter inside his skull like a panicked bird, throwing images up behind his closed eyes; the man's face superimposed over another he'd seen in Philly not long ago, ragged, bare bone beneath both. 

He was only dimly aware of Alicia sliding down the wall to sit beside him, the nearness of her presence. Long minutes passed, his heart slowing, his breathing evening out, and gradually he became aware of the warmth of her hand settled on his shoulder.

Jensen blinked his eyes open, hands still shaking as he lifted his head and craned his neck to look at her. "I-I'm sorry. I saw… I…"

"What did you see?" Alicia prompted, her voice quiet and full of comfort.

He didn't want to tell her, reluctance forming a lump in his throat. What he'd seen was horrifying enough, but what it connected to… he didn't want the knowledge, himself, much less to try to explain it to someone else. But Alicia had understood about his powers, and she had powers of her own; maybe she would understand this, too. Maybe she even knew something about it.

Jensen cleared his throat hard, forcing himself to begin speaking. "I don't know what causes it. Sometimes… some people… like that homeless man… they radiate this energy. Scary energy. It looks red and black and sounds like danger. And I can see…" he swallowed with difficulty before he continued. "I can see their skeleton through their skin, like their skin is dancing over bone. The last… the last time I saw it…" Jensen trailed off and closed his eyes, and Alicia's fingers gripped his shoulder tight. Encouraged by her touch, he went on.

"The last time I saw it, it was another homeless man. And I ran away. But later that night, I blacked out for hours. And then, I had a terrible dream. I dreamt I went to the abandoned glass factory where the man was sleeping and I…" He hesitated, frowning as he took in a breath, holding it for an instant before releasing. "I… think I killed him."

Alicia was silent for a long moment, as if waiting for him to go on. When he didn't, she spoke up in that same quiet tone. "I don't know what you're seeing or why you're seeing it, but it was just a dream, Jack. You didn't kill anyone."

Jensen bit at his lower lip, chewing on the skin, and rubbed a hand back and forth across his chin. At last, he sighed, reaching for the zipper pocket on his leather jacket. His fingers fumbled as he reached inside, catching the edge of the object inside and slicing open the pad of his thumb. He withdrew it carefully and held it up for Alicia to see. "When I woke up after that dream, I was still in all my clothes, no memory of going to sleep. This was caught in the leather strap around my jacket cuff."

The piece of glass was as red as the blood that welled from the tip of Jensen's thumb, only slightly opaque and triangular in shape.

Alicia stared at the glass shard, somber as Jensen felt. "You think you went to the glass factory, like you dreamed?"

Jensen nodded.

"And you think maybe you killed this man?"

Jensen's mouth tightened into a straight line as he nodded again. 

"It's not the first time something like that has happened, is it?"

Jensen slowly shook his head.

Alicia withdrew her hand from his shoulder and rubbed at her cheek before she sighed. "I don't know what to say about any of that, Jack, and I'm sorry you're going through this. But if we're gonna get answers, we need to get to that tailor shop before Lex is gone."

She was right, and Jensen knew it.

"All right." Jensen surveyed his mind, smoothing it over with as much calm as he could, and tucked the shard of glass back into his pocket. He sat there for a moment longer, preparing himself to move in any direction that wasn't far, far away from the man he'd seen on the street. "All right," he said again. "But we have to take a different route."

Alicia nodded her agreement and then rose to her feet, extending a hand towards Jensen to help him up.

  


*    *    *  


The Saves Nine Tailor Shop's large windows were dripping with elegance: sleek black tuxes and fitted suits, gorgeous gowns glittering silver and white over layers of soft pink and blue. All of the offerings on display were dramatically lit by soft yellow light and set against a background draped in cream colored silk, delicate silver ribbons falling in coils from the ceiling around them, pearls and mirrored, fake gems scattered around the bases.

They were ten minutes late for their 2pm appointment, which meant Lex was probably already inside, which was exactly what Jensen wanted. He didn't want to give the other man an opportunity to escape before he could talk to him.

Jensen and Alicia paused outside the door, exchanging a look, and then Jensen reached out and grabbed the metal door handle.

The inside of the shop was much like the outside, painted cream everywhere save the dark wooden floor and doors. Dark leather couches and armchairs filled the front of the store, scattered around low, long wooden tables with catalogs, and towards the back there were suits and shirts and dresses hanging on racks in every color of the rainbow. Off to one side was a counter, and on the other, rows of doors that could only lead to dressing rooms. At a glance, the shop seemed empty except for the person who worked there, and Jensen felt the anticipation in his chest coil even more tightly.

A white woman with eyes the same shade as her long, dark-brown hair approached them as they entered, her high heels clicking against the hardwood floors. She moved with precision as much as grace, shoulders set straight and chin held high as she approached them, dark eyes looking them up and down with confusion and a touch of derision she couldn't quite conceal.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, her tone expressing how very much she doubted the answer was 'yes'. Jensen recognized her voice from the phone call yesterday.

"Charisma," he said, breaking into a wide smile. 

Charisma smiled back with brilliantly white teeth, but the smile didn't reach her dark eyes, which regarded him with suspicion.

"I'm Jack. Jared's fiance? We spoke on the phone yesterday."

"Oh yes, the wedding party." The suspicion left her eyes, but she gave Jensen's attire a skeptical appraisal that spoke volumes. She glanced at Alicia before looking back to Jensen. "And where is Jared?"

For a moment, Jensen wished desperately that Jared were there. Jared would have turned on that smooth charm and those expressive hazel eyes and made Charisma into putty in high heels. Jensen was good with ideas, good with ruses and capable of craftily getting himself into and out of things—you learned those sorts of things, living the way he did—but charm had never been in his particular set of skills.

Jensen opened his mouth to stall, to tell her Jared would be along shortly with their tuxedos—

The door to one of the dressing rooms opened and Lex strode out.

He would have stood out anywhere, with his brown skin and pale eyes and platinum hair, but he stood out even more there under the bright light of the tailor shop, lithe body clad in a high-dollar black jacket with a diagonal zipper and form fitting dark jeans that cut a sharp contrast against the cream colored walls. He was still wearing the inexplicable black leather glove on his left hand, Jensen noticed, and he saw the man's fingers twitch slightly as he sighted Jensen.

"Jack Less," Lex intoned and then grinned, tongue curling against the inside of his cheek.

If Lex were surprised or uncomfortable, he didn't let it show. He took a step closer to Jensen and Alicia, crossing his arms, and Jensen could see that the zipper across his chest had been left open at the top to reveal a white collared shirt and black silk tie beneath.

"Charisma," Lex said, taking slow steps up to the woman, "did you set this up?"

Charisma turned to look at Lex and her entire demeanor changed. She practically radiated adoration, her brown eyes soft, corners of her mouth lifting upward. A moment ago, Jensen had wished he'd brought Jared along, but it appeared Jared had nothing on Lex's charm. 

"They were so excited about your recommendation, I thought it would be nice for all of you."

Lex made a humming sound and then he smiled at Charisma. "Charisma, my dear, why don't you go in the back for a bit?" The way he said the words made them sound like a suggestion, but Charisma accepted them like a command, nodding her head. 

As Charisma moved to exit the room, Lex stepped closer to Alicia and Jensen and Jensen could almost feel Alicia bristle, tensing beside him.

"I like this tailor shop." Lex tugged at one of the cuffs of his jacket and smoothed the material down his arm. "Enough that I let Charisma remember me. That," he said, brushing at the lapel of his jacket as he inspected its fit, "was clearly a mistake."

His inspection of the jacket apparently complete, he looked at them with his full attention, eyes traveling from their faces to their clothing and back again, calculating. "Although I am surprised you found me. And so quickly. I must admit, I'm impressed, Jack."

Lex's voice was as deep and honey smooth as Jensen remembered it, and it seemed to slip past his defenses, settle pleasantly under his skin. The connection between them that had been so clear the other night began to spark again, slowly sputtering to life. Without plan, without thought, Jensen stepped closer to the other man.

Alicia's hand on his shoulder brought him back to himself and he blinked, the reality of what he'd been doing settling in. What was it about Lex that seemed to enthrall him? Jensen shook off the sensation of familiarity.

"You didn't need to bring a bodyguard," Lex told Jensen, favoring Alicia with a lingering look. "Although you _are_ lovely."

"Don't bother." Alicia's upper lip curled with mild disgust as she returned Lex's look. "You're not my type."

Lex huffed out an amused breath through his nose, one corner of his mouth curving upward. "I'm everyone's type."

"Tell me what happened in the alley." The words left Jensen in a rush, unplanned and unrehearsed. "Tell me what I am."

"What _we_ are," Alicia corrected, stepping closer up beside Jensen

"Neither one of you know what you are," Lex said with mild wonder and shook his head. Something resembling genuine sadness touched his features for an instant, like a cloud across the sun, there and gone. His usual smirk returned as he uncrossed his arms and held them out from his sides, palms open for a moment. "Come," he said, turning away and motioning for them to follow. "There are better places to discuss this."

Alicia and Jensen exchanged a look and then Jensen stepped forward, reaching out to grab Lex by his expensive jacket. "Tell us here."

Lex shrugged off Jensen's touch without slowing, turning his face so that Jensen could see his profile as he spoke. "What I'm about to show you will make it easier for you to believe what I'm going to tell you."

He led them through one wooden door to a back hallway, and shortly down the corridor there was another wooden door on the left. This one was different than the others though, and when Lex set his hand on the knob, Jensen could almost feel something in the air shift.

Lex looked over his shoulder at them with a grin and then stepped through the doorway— 

And vanished.

Jensen blinked and stepped through the doorway into the open air outside. Sunlight shone down into the alley, leaving only a strip of asphalt in slight shadow along the far wall, and weeds poked up through the cracks, waving silently in the barest of breezes. A green dumpster overflowing with black trash bags was the only object of any note. There was no sign of Lex—or that Lex had even existed a moment before.

"Where the hell did he go?" Alicia wondered aloud, the confusion in her voice echoing Jensen's own feelings.

Jensen frowned, intuition tickling at the back of his mind. He stepped back inside the shop and Alicia stepped in behind him before he turned and closed the door.

"You have an idea?" Alicia asked.

"Maybe," Jensen answered, never taking his eyes from the door. It looked familiar somehow, older than the other doors in the shop, and there was the strangest design carved in the upper half between the two beveled rectangles. The face of a strange creature caught somewhere between a lion and a gargoyle peered at Jensen, flowers and leaves spilling from its mouth. Carved in bas relief, its edges were worn smooth and white, and Jensen was sure it had held even more detail once, flower petals chipped and splintering.

"Well?" Alicia prompted, as if she expected him to tell her what his idea was.

Jensen shook his head, uncertain. He reached for the knob and opened the door again.

The alley was just as it had been; silent and empty. In the distance, cars swooshed past, sending echoes down the narrow space.

"Jack." Alicia's voice was edged with impatience.

He closed the door again, looking at the odd creature's face that had been carved into it, and then he stepped back, looking at the entire door. He thought he could hear something in the distance. A faint hum? No, that wasn't quite it. It was more of a rustling sound, like dead leaves stirring in the wind, or… whispering?

He leaned closer to the door, cocking his head at an angle. He could hear it more clearly now, the sinuous whispering of dozens of voices speaking over each other, the words unintelligible. It fizzed like champagne bubbles underneath his skin as the energy of it seemed to slip inside him, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, simply alive, and there.

"Jack." Alicia's voice seemed further away, as if she'd walked down the hallway several paces.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, and it seemed as though his voice had to travel a long way to reach her.

Alicia was silent for a moment, listening, and then she said, "I hear… something."

The voices rose in volume, filling his ears or his mind or both, he couldn't tell, but they wove around him, those energy bubbles popping beneath his skin, drawing him in, and he reached for the doorknob again. The door seemed to twist slightly on its hinges, rippling and shimmering like liquid instead of wood. He set his hand upon the knob and turned it, letting the voices lead him as he stepped through the doorway.

For a moment everything went gray and misty, like fog encircling him. He caught the impression of something like buildings in the distance through the swirls, and then he was falling, tumbling and twisting through the air. It must have been only fractions of a second, but it seemed like a long time before he hit the ground, landing on his hands and knees. His bones jolted with more than the impact, stomach turning over as his vision wavered, thin and watery. 

There was a startled yell in the distance as the world began to solidify again, the sound of a thump and then running footsteps that came to a halt within Jensen's line of sight.

Jensen blinked, trying to focus as he looked up.

Jared stood over him, jaw hanging loose from its hinges as he stared. He looked up and behind Jensen, and Jensen craned his neck, looking back over his shoulder.

A door hung open against an ochre colored wall, revealing nothing but more wall behind it. There was a slight depression carved into the plaster where the door normally sat closed, but nothing more. It was strange, Jensen thought, that it was set off-kilter into a blank wall four feet off the ground. 

Everything clicked then, and Jensen realized where he was. He was in the Hall of Doors. He'd walked through a door at the Saves Nine Tailor shop and fallen out through another, miles from where he'd been.

_That can't be possible._

He turned his head back to look at Jared, certain this had to be a vision or a dream of some sort. But Jared was still there, solid and real, dressed in blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Jared was also still staring at Jensen, wordless and shocked, his face pale, and Jensen couldn't really blame him.

"Jack, how the fuck did you do that?"

Jensen opened his mouth to reply and vomited all over Jared's shoes.

  


*    *    *  


Jared had cursed and then helped Jensen up, depositing Jensen on a barstool while he cleaned up the mess. It only took a few minutes, and then Jared padded back over to him on bare feet, a cup of water in his hand. Jensen was leaning heavily on the bar to support his weight, and the world was beginning to feel right side up again when he took the cup from Jared's hand.

"Now," Jared said, "explain what just happened. Slowly."

Jensen took a sip from the cup and his stomach turned over once, then seemed to decide to accept it on a trial basis. Feeling slightly better, Jensen opened his mouth to begin.

He told Jared everything—at least everything that he had told Alicia thus far—right up until the moment he had landed on the floor in the Hall of Doors.

Jared's hazel eyes were wide and round, filled with disbelief, but at least he wasn't staring at Jensen as if Jensen were crazy. Jensen supposed falling through a door that opened to nowhere had probably made Jared a little more willing to believe him. 

"So, you're… You can…?" Jared sentence ended on an up note, the thought inconclusive, but Jensen thought he understood.

Jensen lifted a hand and reached out, not quite touching Jared's arm, his brows rising in silent question. After a moment, Jared nodded, and Jensen placed his fingertips against Jared's forearm, slowly slipping his hand around Jared's wrist. 

He closed his eyes for clarity while sorting through the memory, as much for the sake of seeing clearly as avoiding Jared's gaze while he did so.

"When you were seven," Jensen said, "you went to a carnival with your older brother. You had a stuffed bear you used to carry with you everywhere and you dropped it in the haunted house. You were so terrified to go back in that you left it behind and you never told your parents what happened to it. Its name was Barry and you never saw it again." Jensen opened his eyes to find Jared staring at him wide-eyed, his nostrils flaring wide.

"You also had a golden retriever named Rusty when you were growing up," Jensen said before he released his grip on Jared's wrist. He could still feel the warmth of Jared's skin as if it were clinging to him, slight buzz of electricity through his veins, and his fingers twitched, wanting to feel Jared's skin against his again, but this was hardly the time or place for such things, especially when Jared was staring at him like that.

Jared's lips were parted, mouth hanging slightly open, and he took his forearm back, fingers rubbing absently against the place where Jensen had touched him. "There's no way you could know that about Barry. You're right; I never even told my parents. So you… you must…" Jared blinked as the truth began to set in, and then he turned away, running his hands through his hair and gripping the roots tightly.

"Holy shit," he muttered. "Holy _shit_."

Jensen began to reach out, to touch Jared's shoulder to calm him, and then he withdrew his hand, thinking that it might set Jared off even more, given Jensen's unique ability.

"Holy shit," Jared said again, enunciating each word clearly as he spun back around to look at Jensen, hands still holding his hair.

Jensen wanted to say something reassuring, but the truth was, he didn't know what could possibly be reassuring in a situation like this. He was having a reality crisis of his own on a smaller scale, but he'd been somewhat prepared for it. Alicia had probably—

"Oh no." Jensen smacked a palm against his forehead. "Alicia!"

Jared let go of his hair and blinked at Jensen, seeming to understand. "She's still at the tailor shop."

"With no idea where I went." Jensen dug into his pocket for his phone and realized he didn't have Alicia's number. "Call her."

Jared pulled out his own phone and touched the screen a few times before he held it up to his ear.

Behind them, a phone began to ring as Alicia entered the bar.

She reached into her pocket and yanked it out, touching the screen to ignore the call.

"Ya'll wanna tell me what the hell happened?" she demanded.

  


*    *    *  


Twenty minutes later they were all gathered around the bar, nursing coffee Jared had made for them. Jared seemed better, though his eyes still held the gleam of a man who wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming.

"So these doors," Alicia said, motioning with one hand to indicate the room around them. "They're connected somehow." She turned to look at Jared then. "What kinda weird shit was your grandfather doing, Jared?"

Jared sat up straight on his barstool, as if something had just occurred to him. "The book!" he exclaimed, and then ran from the room

Alicia and Jensen exchanged a glance, and a moment later, Jared returned, holding a book in his hand. Jensen recognized it from the other day. "The sales ledger."

Jared nodded. "Except I think it's more than that," Jared said as he laid the book down on the bar, opening it to around the midway point. "Remember the numbers I couldn't figure out before? If you and Alicia and are right… then I think…" Jared pulled out his phone again and typed something in, spreading his fingers apart to zoom in on something after a moment. He frowned at the screen and then set his phone aside on the counter, beginning to page through the book.

Jensen bit at his lower lip and kept silent, uncertain of what Jared was doing. A couple of minutes later, Jared made a triumphant noise and struck the open page of the book with his forefinger.

"They're coordinates," Jared said, sounding excited. "The numbers next to this business name correspond precisely with the coordinates of the Saves Nine Tailor shop."

"You mean like longitude and latitude?" Alicia asked, getting up from her stool and walking around the bar to peer at the book.

"Exactly. It used to be something called Hook and Line Trading Company. I'd bet money if we looked up the history of the location there used to be a business by that name there."

Jensen took a moment to absorb that, thinking about the implications. "But Lex didn't fall through here. And I'm pretty sure no one else has come through these doors since you've been running this business."

Jared shook his head in agreement. "No. But…" he frowned, seeming to think, "but what if they're _all_ connected. Like you can walk through any one of them to somewhere else, not just a fixed point."

Alicia shifted her jaw, looking thoughtful. "You mean if Jack tried to go through that door at the tailor shop again he might end up somewhere else where there's another one of these doors?" 

"It's possible." Jared shrugged. "It doesn't seem any crazier than the rest of this."

Alicia tipped her head to the side, one corner of her mouth curling ruefully. "That's for sure."

"So why did I end up here?" Jensen asked. 

Jared pursed his lips, thinking that over. "Maybe… maybe you were thinking about it? Or maybe it's the only connection point you know, so that's where it brought you."

Jensen shook his head. "That's too many 'maybe's'. I went to that shop hoping to get answers and now we've got more questions than I did before."

Jared closed the ledger, looking somewhat defeated. "We'll figure this out," he said, and Jensen could almost feel the determination in him. "But for now, we've got to get this place ready to open in a couple hours."

"Not sure I can just serve drinks all night like this never happened," Alicia said.

Jared wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her up against his side. "We'll manage," he said, and Alicia looked up at him with a tentative smile. She was tall, just shy of six feet by an inch or two, but Jared still towered over her, making her look tiny by comparison. 

For a moment, Jensen envied them their friendship, the way they could lean so close together without any fear of the consequences, and then he pulled his eyes from them, feeling as he were intruding.

"I'll just… sit here for a few while you all get the place ready," Jensen said, feeling drained. His apartment wasn't far but it was a trip up several staircases that he wasn't sure he could make just yet.

Alicia and Jared set about getting the bar ready, and Jensen sat on his stool, trying to take it all in. He reached up and peeled the bandage from his forehead, no longer having a reason to keep it on now that Jared knew the truth. He crumpled it in his fist and shoved it into his jacket pocket, eyes roving over the doors that adorned the walls. He couldn't shake the feeling that just behind one of them were all the answers he'd been searching for; a place where there was someone who understood all of it. At one time, he'd have thought it was just wishful thinking on his part, but he wasn't so sure now. A network of connected doorways, other people with powers like his. Surely there was someone somewhere who knew how it all worked.

And he _had_ been thinking about the Hall of Doors when he'd been looking at that door in the back of the tailor shop, hadn't he? He'd been thinking how the carving on the door reminded him of the doors here.

His vision lighted on a door set even with the floor of the club, its border etched deep with intricate celtic knotwork. It was similar to the door in the Saves Nine Tailor Shop in that it had an animal's face carved into it in bas relief three-quarters of the way up, but this one was more immediately recognizable. It was the profile of a horse head, seaweed knotted in its lovingly detailed mane, and somehow, though it was a solid carving, the horse seemed to drip with sea water.

He thought of Lex and what Lex had taught him, letting his eyes lose their focus a little as he gazed at the carving on the door. The door seemed to ripple, a shudder working quickly through it, and Jensen blinked, breaking the spell with a sudden intake of breath.

It was just a solid wooden door, albeit a beautiful one.

He closed his eyes and let his lungs fill with air, then let his lashes flutter open, focusing on the design on the door without concentrating, pupils slack and open. He could see it now, white trails of energy escaping around the edges, wood seeming to shimmer momentarily, and he could hear it: a beautiful chorus of voices singing out, calling to him. Jensen opened his mind and then his heart, letting it flow through him and fill him.

The door twisted and writhed at the edges of its delicate trim confines, light erupting through the cracks of its closed edges in blinding, white hot rays. 

_Come_ , it seemed to call, and Jensen could do nothing except answer.

Jensen rose to his feet, feeling the song rise inside his heart, voices carrying him slowly, step by step to where the door bulged on its hinges. He felt as though he were sleepwalking, daydreaming as his fingers fell to grasp the knob.

"Jack. _Jack_!" Alicia's voice was frantic and plaintive, somewhere far away from where he stood.

Water began to drip from the horse's mane, dribbling down the door with the scent of brine, and the horse opened its mouth, whinnying. Seaweed curled out from the wood, brushing over Jensen's face, slowly seeking. Reality warped so far the edges of the door fairly screamed, voices in his head deteriorating into an indistinguishable cacophony of shrieks and wails. The door vibrated, wood rattling against the frame so frantically it buzzed up the nerves of his arm, and he could hear the eager sound of something shift on the other side of the door.

He turned the knob, beginning to pull—

The door slammed shut and hands grabbed him from behind, spinning him away from the door. Alicia's expression bordered on terrified as she turned Jensen to face her, never releasing her grip on his arms.

"Not that one. That one's bad. Didn't you feel it?" she whispered, shuddering.

The screaming song ceased within Jensen, and he blinked, focusing on her.

"That's a kelpie carved into the door," Jared said as he moved up alongside Alicia. "I don't know if it means anything, but kelpies in mythology preyed on and devoured humans." Jared looked over his shoulder at the door and then back at Jensen. "Some of the places these doors lead to might be dangerous." 

"It… it called to me," Jensen tried to explain.

"I heard it, too." Alicia nodded. "And I saw what it was doing. Like it was… _hungry_ for you."

"I didn't hear anything, or see anything, but I _felt_ something," Jared said and shivered lightly.

Jensen's heartbeat slowed down from the notch it had kicked up, and he nodded at Alicia before pulling out of her grip. "I'm all right now."

He looked at the door and there was no trace of movement, no sea water puddled at its base. It was as solid and unremarkable as if nothing had ever happened. The horse's mouth was a thin, straight line barely carved into wood and Jensen felt a sense of wonder to realize it had been open a moment before, that he had seen its sharp teeth, felt its breath on his skin. He felt the need to wash his skin and rinse away every trace of it.

"I think I need to use the bathroom," he said, walking around Alicia and heading toward the back of the club.

He closed his hand around the knob and opened the door, his mind still filled with what he had seen, and then stopped dead.

"Jared. Alicia. Come here," he said very slowly and distinctly.

Footsteps approached from behind him and then stopped. Jared was silent, but Alicia cursed out loud. 

Beyond the door, instead of urinals and sinks and a short row of stalls, was a kitchen. It was long and narrow and styled as if it had been built several decades before. There was a gas stove with one burner lit, blue flame flickering beneath a silver teapot, and Jensen caught the scent of something light and herbal. 

"Alicia, you see it, too." It wasn't a question; he could tell by Alicia's stillness that she did.

"All I see is the bathroom," Jared confessed. "What is it? _Where_ is it?"

"It's a kitchen," Jensen replied. "And we're about to find out."

He wasn't leaving anyone behind this time. He reached out and back, steeling himself for contact as he touched Jared's hand, then Alicia's, wrapping his fingers around theirs. An instant later, in unified unspoken agreement, they all took a step forward and walked through the doorway.

 


	5. Chapter 5

They were standing in the long, cramped kitchen with old wooden cabinets lining both sides like a short hallway. There was a more modern looking, dented white refrigerator that looked as if it had seen better days at the end on the left. On the stove, the silver teapot began to boil and hiss as it whistled out a steady stream of steam. Jensen noticed all of these things almost as an afterthought as he tried and failed to get a grasp on reality. There had been no motion this time, the journey from one side of the door to the other instantaneous and seamless, and Jensen's stomach only felt the slightest bit upset. 

A figure moved directly into his line of vision and he stepped backward, back meeting the solid weight of Jared and Alicia behind him.

The woman before him was Asian and somewhere around five and a half feet tall, but casual menace exuded from her as she approached them. As she came to a stop in front of Jensen, he noticed she held a sharp kitchen knife in one hand, elbow propped against her hip, light shining in a star shape on the tip of the blade pointed at Jensen.

"Why are you in my house?" the woman asked. 

Jensen wished he knew. "I opened the door and it… this was where it took me."

The woman gave him a calculating look, eyes scanning the length of him before returning to his face.

"No one has come through that door in a very long time," the woman said.

She was somewhere around their age and dressed in a fuzzy, pale pink bathrobe that hung to her knees, and she looked as though she had just emerged from the shower. Her straight, glossy black hair was wet and hung just past the edge of her jaw line. There was a dark-pink streak divided across the side part of her hair and it framed her face, clinging to her high cheekbones. She was short and fit and somehow frightening. Most people in her place would have looked vulnerable and unthreatening, but somehow her appearance served to underscore the air of danger about her. Her confidence was a nearly palpable thing, as if she could have dispatched all three of them with barely a flick of her wrist even if she'd been naked. 

"This is the part where you tell me why I shouldn't kill you," the woman prompted in a near whisper and leaned close to him, edge of the blade pressing against Jensen's throat.

It was then that Jared leaned forward and threw up all over the woman's kitchen floor.

The woman's eyes flicked downward toward the mess and then looked to where Jared was still retching, the point of the blade pressed against Jensen's neck not moving in the slightest.

"We're here for answers," Jensen said and slowly held up his hands. "That's all. That's Jared," he said, glancing over to where Jared was trying to catch his breath, "and this," he said, jerking his eyes in the direction of his right shoulder, "is Alicia. I'm Jack," he added after only a slight hesitation.

"You brought a human with you?" Her tone was musing, and although she asked the question aloud Jensen got the feeling it wasn't directed at him.

"You know what we are," he said with something like relief.

She stared at Jensen for a moment longer and then pulled the blade away from his throat, although Jensen noted she didn't let it fall far. "I don't know what you are, but I know you're not completely human, and neither is she."

"Sorry," Jared breathed, straightening somewhat as he wiped at his mouth. "If you have some paper towels I'll clean that right up."

"Your first time?" the woman asked, seeming vaguely amused.

"Yeah. I just found out about all this today," Jared admitted.

The ghost of a smile tugged at the woman's lips and Jensen saw the knife fall another couple of inches. "And you?" she asked, looking to Jensen again.

"The doors are new to all of us, but Alicia and I have had powers for years now. What we don't know is why."

The woman squinted at Jensen and then Alicia, as if scrutinizing them for something, and her dark eyes flashed gold momentarily, startling a breath from Jensen. 

After a moment, she seemed satisfied and the knife disappeared somewhere inside her robe.

"I'm Xae,” she said. “Come in, have a seat. I was just about to make tea.” Xae extended her hand in the direction of the entrance to the kitchen. Opposite the doorway was a small sitting area with a little bay window. Late afternoon sunlight fell through it onto a small, square wooden table by the window with four chairs scattered around it.

"Alicia Bennet," Alicia introduced herself, but she didn't reach for the woman's hand.

As they went to walk past her, Xae reached out, grabbing a roll of paper towels off the counter and pushing them against Jared's chest, effectively stopping him.

"Not you. You clean this up first," she said, nodding in the direction of the floor.

"Right," Jared said, flushing slightly. "I'm uh, Jared by the way. Jared Padalecki."

"And I'm Jack Less," Jensen put in as Jared knelt, beginning to clean the floor. 

Several minutes later they were all seated around the table and the kitchen floor was a clean as it had been when they'd first entered. Potted plants hung from the ceiling around the window, their emerald green vines curling and stretching downward toward the sunlight, heart shaped leaves sprouting from the lengths. To the right of the kitchen, the living room was small and prettily, if efficiently, furnished. A flat screen TV was mounted over a small fireplace, and an L-shaped sofa curved to face it. The sofa was set with a black and white checkered pattern, and there were pillows in every hue of the rainbow lined neatly along the back of it, vivid hot pink to lemon yellow to violent purple. There was a low, round, black table with magazines scattered across its surface and a wrought iron bookshelf filled with old hard-backed books, some of them so well read that the bindings had begun to deteriorate, obscuring the titles. It was small and cozy and somehow warm, despite the sparse furnishings.

Xae poured the hot water into a teapot over a diffuser filled with leaves and spices, the aroma filling the air with a pleasant smell. She excused herself for a moment, disappearing down the hallway to the left of the kitchen, and then returned a few minutes later dressed in loose fitting black pants and a pale pink, short-sleeved shirt.

"I wasn't expecting company," she said as she opened a cabinet in the kitchen, "but I have enough cups for everyone." She poured tea for each of them, and then settled into the remaining chair, eyeing Jensen over the rim of her cup as she took a sip. "Are you their leader?"

Jensen wasn't sure how to answer; he wasn't a leader of anything, much less Jared and Alicia's leader.

Jared shifted in his chair, speaking up. "We're… more of a co-op." 

"Hmm," she hummed, as if noting that.  
  
“So your name is Xae?" Jensen asked.

 "Yes," she said, and returned her cup to its saucer.

"Xae," he repeated. It seemed like a soft name for someone who seemed as capable and confident as she was, but if she wasn't human—and based on the way her eyes had flashed golden, Jensen was betting she wasn't—then it was likely an assumed name. 

_True names have power_ , Lex's voice echoed in his mind.

"I'm sorry we stumbled into your home," Jensen went on, and then hesitated. "I'm not sure where to start."

"The beginning is usually a good place," Xae replied.

Jensen nodded, took a sip of his tea, and then began as close to the beginning as he dared. He told her about his experiences, his dreams, pausing to let Alicia and Jared explain their experiences before he told her about Lex and the Hall of Doors.

Some time later, Jensen stopped speaking and Xae got up to put another pot of water on the stove. She looked over at Jensen as she turned on the burner.

"So you were thinking of a place where someone could give you answers and you ended up here," she summed up. "That's very interesting."

"Do you know anything about it?" Jensen asked, hopeful.

"I know a lot of things," Xae said and flashed him a grin. "But about you specifically?" she asked as she returned to her seat. "No."

Alicia squinted her eyes at the other woman, her gaze sweeping over Xae's face. "What _do_ you know?"

Xae returned Alicia's look in kind, and what most would have mistaken for hesitation in her, Jensen saw very clearly as her weighing a decision.

"How much can you _tell us_ about what you know?" Jensen asked.

Xae looked to him then, seeming to size him up. Very deliberately, she lifted her cup and took a sip of tea, staring at Jensen across the brim before she returned it to the table. "Do you know mythology, Jack?" she asked.

Jensen frowned. "You mean like Zeus and Thor?"

"Yes. There are many gods that were once worshipped across the planet: Zeus, Thor, Shangti, Raijin, Pele, Quetzalcoatl, Inti. Even today they persist; from the most famous stories like The Odyssey and King Arthur down to the lowliest of horror movie creatures. The stories of gods and beasts and heroes are woven deeply into every culture. Do you know why?" Xae's eyes were luminous as she blinked at him, her face impassive.

Jensen shook his head. The scent of herbs and spices hung heavy on the silent air, dust motes dancing like tiny fireflies in the sunlight between them. Her eyes were like gravity, twin black holes that pulled him in, and he felt devoured by that gaze, mesmerized by the secrets he saw there. 

Her voice was level, even as she leaned forward across the table toward him. "What if I told you… that all the myths and legends were real? What if I told you that every god and monster ever written about was real? That they once walked this earth as you and I do now?"

She was joking. She had to be joking.

"Some of the stories have been exaggerated, and distorted, others distilled or diluted, and some of them are barely true at all. But they are all based in fact. Those gods, those beasts, those heroes, lived once. You and I," she said, fingers unfurling in Jensen's direction and then pointing back toward herself, "are all that is left of what they were." Her eyes were huge and dark, riveted on Jensen. "We," she said, succinctly, "are the children of fairy tales and nightmares, of creatures more powerful than anything else this world has ever seen."

No one else spoke. It seemed to take a long time for Jensen to find his tongue. "That… that can't…"

"The blood of creatures long lost to this earth flows in your veins, Jack. Surely you can feel that?" Xae's eyes tightened on him, curious. "That there's some part of you that isn't human?"

_Maybe we're the monsters, Jack_

"No." Jensen shook his head emphatically.

Xae looked at him for a long moment, her expression unchanging. "It scares you." She tilted her head as she stared at him, as if he were some sort of curious insect she had never seen before. "It scares you, but you feel it. You know it's true."

"No!" Jensen pushed away from the table and rose to his feet so abruptly that the chair he'd been sitting in fell over with a heavy thump. "I…" he glanced around, unnerved and uncertain before he spun, walking in the direction of the door they'd come through. "I'm sorry," he said, hurrying toward the door. "We never should have come here." 

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, across his mouth, and tried to breathe. The door seemed far away—so much farther than it had when they'd entered—the kitchen a corridor that stretched for miles. Distantly, he was aware of Jared and Alicia calling out his name, and he had a moment to wonder why they weren't following him. Then his hand fell upon the door knob.

A small hand closed over his, the skin olive, nails short and neat, every bit as feminine as it was strong.

"Jack." Xae's voice was close, filling his ear, his senses.

Jensen could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and stand at attention, a warning signal traversing every nerve in his body. He stood there, his feet rooted to the floor, as terrified to turn and look at her as he was not to.

"Turn around," she whispered, and he couldn't help himself as he responded, turning.

Xae's eyes were almond shaped, tilted upward at the outside, and golden light spilled from them in brilliant rays. Flames swept upward from her chin, rippling over her cheeks and up into her hair, which was a twisting mane of fire. Her skin was covered in copper scales, metallic and gleaming, and two horns like small antlers rose from the crown of her head. She was the most inhuman thing Jensen had ever seen and she was _beautiful_.

"I am Qilin," she said in a deep, melodious voice.

At the sound of that voice, the terror in Jensen's veins fled. He felt calm, centered, clearer than he had in longer than he could remember.

"I am the creature from which the Western unicorn evolved." Flame escaped her lips as she spoke, riding the line of her jaw up to one pointed ear. "A creature of peace and punishment who can see the intentions of the soul." The reflection of fire against her scales grew brighter, nearly incandescent as she spoke. "I am a creature of ancient Chinese blood, power and purity passed down from my ancestors."

"I am the guardian and protector of the just, the executioner of the unjust." Her voice rose, booming like thunder and glory, and beneath it Jensen could hear the roar of the creature she was. "I am fire, and justice, and grace made flesh!"

The light around her grew intensely white, so bright Jensen had to squint to see the faint outline of her silhouette, and then the lines of her body shifted, becoming equine and dragon, and Jensen saw her in truth, his eyes welling with tears. He stood before her, feeling tiny and small, an ugly, imperfect arrangement of mere skin and bone in the presence of such power. Sadness and awe rushed through him with longing, and he blinked, tears falling from his eyes.

The light winked out like an extinguished candle. Reality wavered and shifted across her features, human and Qilin both for an instant before the truth of her nature faded out, flames dying, scales receding beneath her skin.

She stood before him, a small Asian woman in an old kitchen dressed in pink and black.

"And I am also simply Xae," she said, looking at him.

Humbled and filled with reverence, Jensen blinked the sting of salt from his eyes and reached out to her.

Xae took his hand between hers and stepped forward. "We are the children of the old gods, Jack. We are the Legacies."

"'We are what remains'," Jensen whispered, voice breaking across the syllables.

She squeezed his hand between hers and nodded. "Now you understand."

They stood like that for a long moment, and behind her, to either side, Jared and Alicia were still as ghosts, watching.

"You thought you were alone. But you aren't. You're among your kind now, Jack." Xae released his hand and stepped back, looking at Alicia. "You and Alicia both." 

Silence reigned for long seconds, and then the tea kettle on the stove erupted with an ear-piercing shriek.

  


  
[](https://ibb.co/emJRmy)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

*    *    *

  
Jensen was three cups of tea into the afternoon by the time it all started to seem real.

"There are many layers," Xae was explaining to Jared. "Think of this reality as a weave, pulling threads of possibility into a specific pattern, based on the choices that are made. This is the plane we call the Prime, our reality, the one we all exist in every day. Just beyond that is the Astral, which is where you can see soul energy, as Jack did. The next layer is the Meridian; that is where we sidestep fully into our Legacy forms. Beyond that is the Drift, which is vast, empty space."

"So I can't see what your Legacy form looks like because I'm human?" Jared asked, and of them all, Jared seemed to be adapting the fastest and easiest. It struck Jensen as strange and somehow unfair that of all of them, Jared was the only one without powers. He would have been good at it.

"We exist in the Prime as human bodies, but we can only fully access our Legacy form in the Meridian. When we sidestep into the Meridian, we exist in the Prime and the Meridian simultaneously. We can be glimpsed in our Legacy form by very few humans: those who have the ability to see into the Meridian. But most pure-blooded humans cannot see beyond the Prime."

"So it's like a wavelength of light we can't see," Jared guessed.

"In a sense." Xae paused as if gathering her thoughts, and then went on. "For instance, if a Legacy had wings and was able to fly—an occurrence that is very rare—you would be able to see them flying, but not the wings that held them aloft. Or, if a Legacy had the ability to breathe fire, you, as a human, would see the Legacy standing there, perhaps even see them breathe outward, but the fire would exist only in the Meridian."

"What if another Legacy were hurt by that fire? What would I see then?"

"You would see their burns in the Prime. Our physical bodies cannot escape the effects of what happens to us in the Meridian."

"But your abilities can't be used in the Prime?"

"Almost never. Legacies _do_ have the ability to manifest their form and abilities in the Prime, but it's extremely difficult. It requires a tremendous amount of energy. Not only is it extremely painful, it can be fatal to use that much energy."

"So these planes are all separate? They never merge?" Jared asked.

Xae pulled her hands apart and returned them to embracing her teacup. "In some places, the weave is naturally thin between the Prime and the other layers. Your Hall of Doors is built on the thinnest separation of all. But they don't truly merge. If they did, it would mean the weave was being unraveled. Reality as we know it would begin to break down."

"Can that happen?" Alicia asked, her tone sharp.

"Anything that is made can be unmade," Xae said, and shrugged.

"That's not very reassuring," Jensen commented. 

"Very little is reassuring, Jack." The grin Xae gave him was even less reassuring than her statement. "But," she went on after a moment, "although that's unlikely to happen, there are other dangers you should know about."

"Such as?" Jensen asked.

"All possibilities exist, but only the ones that _become_ are woven into the fabric of reality. Those parts are tightly woven and stable." A shadow passed over Xae's face, settling in like a storm cloud. "But as with anything created, there are imperfections, tiny holes between, or snarls in the threads. The aberrations in the weave are places where reality went wrong, or the choices that were never made, places that were imagined but never built. We call them rifts." Her voice dropped a notch in volume as she said, "Those places are filled with chaos and half constructed realities, and there are _things_ in there. Hungry things. Things that became lost or were imprisoned. You must never lose your way and venture into those places. You must never open the door to them."

Jensen thought of the door with the kelpie carved into it and shivered.

"How do you know all of this?" Alicia asked.

"I was born knowing what I was. I'm part of a bloodline that has kept itself as pure as possible through the ages."

Alicia took a second to absorb that. "So you're from a line of Qilin Legacies?" 

"Yes. My ancestry is purely Chinese. Where our bloodline has been diluted it was by occasional purely human blood."

"Can Legacies crossbreed?" Jared asked.

"No. Legacies of different descent cannot produce offspring. Hybrids are impossible. There are thousands of us scattered across the world, that we know of. Some are from long lines tracing back directly to the old blood, some are fostered in at a young age, and some stumble upon the truth, as you have. Our abilities don't generally develop until after we've begun to mature into adults, which can make us harder to discover."

"Fostered in…" Jared echoed. "You're talking about a family… or a society."

"More like an organization. I've been part of the Coalescence since I was born." 

"What kind of organization?" Alicia asked, her tone uncertain.

"You know firsthand how difficult it is to keep our existence a secret. The Coalescence assures our secrecy. We are registered and marked—"

"Marked?" Jensen echoed, brows rising in disbelief.

Xae held up her forearm, underside turned outward toward Jensen, and after a moment her skin flared with vibrant red light in the shape of two S's, the second S a mirror image of the first, the two of them not quite touching. A line was drawn between the outer bottom curve of both, connecting them and extending halfway across each letter. The symbol blazed brightly for a moment and then vanished.

"I didn't see anything." Jared sounded disappointed, but not surprised.

Alicia explained quickly and quietly what it had looked like.

"This mark identifies us to others within the Coalescence. When we are in need we show it to others and they are obligated to help us. Some of us within the Coalescence have assigned jobs, as leaders, historians, protectors, and others live out their lives in more human occupations, such as police officers, doctors, reporters. Many live out their entire lives as if they were normal humans. But you can imagine how reassuring it is, to have those who can help keep our existence a secret working toward that end, to know that we can rely on one another for help." 

"As long as you follow their rules," Alicia remarked.

"Humans have laws, so do we."

An obvious but troubling thought occurred to Jensen. "Can you be tracked by that mark?"

"Yes. But that is only done in times of danger to the individual or when they have committed a grievous crime."

"That's… very George Orwell," Jensen commented and nodded.

"Nothing is safe without a price," Xae said, her voice mild. "But not all of our kind agree to join. The ones like Lex are independent agents, without protection."

Jensen thought that sounded like freedom, but he didn't comment on that, choosing instead to focus on the rest of what she'd said. "You know Lex?" 

"Yes, I know the Incubus well." Xae's expression was sour as she spoke.

"Wait," Jared spoke up. "Incubus? Like the male spirit that has sex with its victims and feeds on their life essence?"

"Similar," Xae allowed with a wave of her hand. "The reality of our kind is more complex than the myths. Lex possesses an excess of charisma, easily gaining the trust of his victims. It's seduction, but he doesn't need to have sex to feed. The kiss you two shared was enough for him. Although it sounds as if he got singed for his trouble," she added with a pleased grin.

Well, that explained the insidious charm Lex wielded like a weapon, and the strange way Jensen had felt drawn to him despite hardly knowing him.

"But you don't know what we are?"

"I couldn't tell unless you manifested your form in the Meridian, and it doesn't seem like you know how to do that. But if you like," Xae said as she rose from her chair, "I can take you to see the leader of our kind here in this city. They will be able to tell you more about what you are, exactly."

"They're here?" Jared asked, seeming surprised. "In DC?" 

"We have leaders in every major city, and even some of the smaller ones. We call them Auctoritas."

"And what kind of creature are they?"

"They are Fenghuang," Xae replied, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

The expression on Jared's face said he might have an idea what a Fenghuang was, but Jensen didn't particularly care at that moment. He felt stretched too thin, strung out and flapping in the wind like laundry, clothespins pulling at him too tightly and pinching all wrong. He felt as if at any moment his tether might snap and give way, setting him adrift to places unknown. And there was caution in him, a warning that refused to be silenced that whispered he wouldn't like the answers he found if he kept going.

But he had to know—even if what he found out confirmed his worst fears—and he imagined Alicia did, too.

"Shall we?" Xae asked.

Jensen glanced sidelong at Jared and Alicia, who looked at each other before nodding. Jensen nodded in return.

"Let's go, then," said Alicia.

Jared gestured in the direction of the door they had entered through. "Are we going through a door like that one?" Jared asked, sounding vaguely sickened by just the thought.

Xae laughed and it was a brief, dark sound. "No, Jared. Where we're going, there are no doors like that one."

  


*    *    *  
  


Jared put in a call to someone to see to it that the bar would be open and running on time while Xae readied herself. A few minutes later, true to her word, Xae led them out the main apartment door and down the stairs to the street. They walked several blocks before Xae took a turn at 7th and H Street. A huge square arch somewhere around sixty feet tall framed the street just a little way in, painted green, and the entirety of it was covered in gold Asian writing. Along the top, several fake building tops rose up, capped with orange shingled Asian rooftops. 

"DC's Chinatown," Jared commented. "I haven't been here in a while."

The sun was setting as they made their way down the block, sky tinted brilliant orange and throwing long shadows across the ground. The street was crowded with people of all colors, some of them in suits and some of them dressed more casually. On the corner, someone was playing the horn like they'd spent their whole life learning how and the smell of food was delicious, mingled spices filling the air and reminding Jensen that he hadn't eaten lunch today. Xae led them down the main block and then cut over another street, rounding the corner into a narrow alleyway. She stopped in front of a green painted metal door that looked like it could have led to a club and pressed her hand against it, murmuring something in what Jensen presumed was Chinese.

A moment later the door opened and she stepped inside, motioning for them to follow. Jensen started to enter, and then hesitated inside the doorway, feeling something odd race along his nerve endings, strange sensation beneath his skin that made him shiver. 

"It's the warding," Xae told him. "Spell warding. Not just anyone can walk in here. If you weren't with me, it would have killed you."

"Spells?" Alicia sounded surprised; Jensen was fairly sure nothing could surprise him at that point. Or perhaps he'd just had so many surprises at that point that he'd gone numb.

"And you didn't think to tell me this first?" Jensen asked.

Xae gave him a grin and shrugged.

Once they were all inside, she led them through the narrow hallways of what Jensen was becoming sure was the back area of a club of some kind, although it must have been massive, given how long they walked. They threaded their way through to another door, and this time when they passed through Jensen felt the warding hit him violently, like a watchdog shaking him down. He passed through after a moment, sensation fading, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room.

Candles burned everywhere and the room itself was draped in rich cloth, nailed to the ceiling perhaps, and spilling down the walls in an array of colors: gold, orange-red and crimson featuring most prominently. Several low couches filled the room in a circle, all pointed at one another. Situated on one of the couches was a person, although it was difficult to tell in the flickering candle light if it was a man or a woman.

Jensen had expected something more official, sterile, maybe a large throne room bathed in cold white light and filled with stone pillars with strange symbols carved into them. Perhaps something extravagant, like a person lying on a dais with servants massed around them, fanning them and feeding them grapes. But the room was fairly normal in size and cozy, made more so by the material draped over the walls. The only thing in the room that stood out was the tapestry hung behind the couch the person sat upon: it was red, woven golden with the shape of a bird of fire, its beak turned upward and open in a silent cry, wingtips rising up to a point on either side. 

"This seems… underwhelming," Jensen remarked.

"You were expecting a crown, perhaps? Debauchery and excess?" the person inquired, seeming amused.

They were draped across the sofa in a manner that suggested they were used to casually possessing whatever space they chose to occupy. They were Asian, dressed in black that nearly blended into the shadows, and their lower body was stretched out across the couch cushions, upper body sitting against the back, elbow resting on the rounded arm. They were attractive, with high cheekbones and a triangular shaped face descending to the sharp point of their chin, features androgynous. Their nose was narrow at the top, broadening out across the nostrils, tip dipping down between, and their lips were nearly as full as Jensen's own. Their hair was short, black, and tousled into spikes atop their head, but their eyes were what made Jensen stop short.

In the darkness of their depths, fire shone, licking out from the pupil in a sunburst shape before it vanished.

"Something like that." Jensen nodded.

"Sit," they said, their voice light as they motioned to the couches. "I've been expecting you."

"You knew we were coming?" Alicia sounded only mildly surprised this time.

"You can see the future?" Jensen asked, thinking that would have impressed him.

They threw back their head and laughed. "No," they said after a moment, their voice still filled with mirth. "I can see my phone when Xae texts me that she's bringing strangers to see me. Now, sit," they said again.

The room was obviously designed to be comfortable, perhaps to set people at ease, but Jensen felt neither of those things as he made his way to one of the couches.

Jensen sat on one across from the person who might have been male or female, perched near the edge, and Jared sat down next to him to his left. Jared was close enough that Jensen could feel the heat radiating from Jared's body, acutely aware of Jared's knee very nearly touching his. Alicia sat on another couch to Jensen's right, closer to Jensen and Jared than the other end. Xae seated herself in the small space at the end of the couch the other person rested upon, and Jensen thought it was strange that she would push into so small a space rather than sit with the rest of them. 

"I am Tenth," they said by way of introduction and then paused to allow each of them to introduce themselves. They then continued, "Xae tells me you have questions about what you are."

For the fourth time in two days, Jensen told his story. Then Alicia told hers, and Jared followed with what he'd learned from his grandfather's ledger.

"I see." Tenth thoughtful ran a forefinger beneath their lower lip.

Silence reigned for a long moment, and then Jared spoke up. "Xae said you're Fenghuang. That's a Chinese Phoenix, right?"

"In Chinese mythology the similarities between the Western Phoenix and the Fenghuang are superficial," Tenth said with an incline of their head. "But there is more truth between them than the texts would suggest."

"The Fenghuang is a creature of high virtue and grace," Xae said, speaking for the first time since they'd entered. "They are supreme leaders, blessed with credibility and mercy. A perfect blend of male and female aspects held in balance."

Suddenly, Jensen understood why Xae had referred to Tenth as 'they'. He had noticed the androgynous features, had been unable to place their gender, and it was clear now that they were both genders at once: long lashes, sharp cheekbones, and a full mouth that would have been at home on any face. 

"I'll attempt to give you the short version of our history," Tenth said. "As Xae told you, every mythological creature you've ever read about existed, and some that were never recorded. We call them the old gods, and they were pure power in form and intent. They were locked up, sealed away from this world millennia ago, but before they were, they mated with humans, and the resulting offspring were imbued with their power. Over the years the bloodlines have been thinned, but we still exist. Sometimes it skips generations, but the bloodlines always produce a child imbued with powers eventually. Like a recessive gene. The tales of the old gods have likewise become diluted through the ages, regarded now as 'myths' rather than history. That is for the best, since it keeps our existence a secret."

Some of that was completely new information, and Jensen was still trying to formulate his questions when Tenth continued speaking.

"Based on what you've told me about your abilities, I'd surmise somewhere in your family history was a man or woman bearing the bloodline of one of these ancient creatures, passed down through the generations to you." Tenth paused, smiling faintly at Alicia. "I'd guess you are what is referred to in our history and modern mythology as an Amazon." 

"An… Amazon," Alicia repeated, her voice faint. "Like Wonder Woman?"

"You are a warrior. Your strength and anticipation of others' movement makes you a superb fighter. You also possess amazing toughness, the ability to endure more physical punishment than others."

Alicia was very still and quiet, seeming to think about that. 

"You, on the other hand," Tenth said, turning their attention on Jensen, "are more difficult to recognize. From what you've told me, I would guess… something you obviously cannot be."

Jensen wasn't particularly fond of 'being' anything, but he didn't like the sound of that, feeling edgy as he asked, "Why can't I be?"

"Because unless I am mistaken, you appear to have been born as and to identify as male." The words were polite, a statement offered as a mild question.

"I was. I do," Jensen agreed, not understanding why it mattered.

"Then you cannot be what I thought you were."

"Why not?" Jensen asked, impatience edging into his voice.

"Because like Amazons, Valkyrie are traditionally always female."

Jensen blinked several times, taking that in. A Valkyrie? A motherfucking _Valkyrie_? Like the women in that movie that rode winged horses?

"Maybe the bloodlines have shifted over the years," Jared suggested. "Maybe they've mutated so that it triggers in males as well?"

Tenth lifted one shoulder slightly, and then coughed, clearing their throat. "If that were true, it would be the first time I've heard of it. Although…" They looked to Jensen again. "The way you described what you saw with the homeless men, that is how Valkyries see those who are about to die soon: as if death were already upon them, it's so close. It's how they know whose souls to collect. Valkyries collect the souls of fallen warriors and send them on to the afterlife—called Valhalla in Norse mythology. I would guess those homeless men were soldiers, veterans of war, which is why you were compelled to take them."

"So I didn't… I didn't kill them?" Jensen asked, hardly daring to believe.

"Valkyrie take the souls of those who have died or are about to die, either from their wounds or from natural causes. It sounds as if that is what you did."

So maybe he was a Valkyrie, that was a thousand times—no, a _million_ times better than being a murdering monster. Relief so palpable Jensen could feel it flood his veins swept through him. It was a moment before he could speak again. "Then why the blackouts?"

"That is strange. I can only guess the Valkyrie in you operates as a separate entity, emerging when you sleep or when you're in danger."

 _That_ was an unsettling idea. But then, it had been one Jensen had already half formed. And it explained a lot. "And the memories I can see?"

"Some say the Valkyrie see the memories of people so they may understand the value of the life they collect. Others say it is so they can separate the bad memories from the fallen before sending them on to the afterlife, so they only remember the good in their lives. Some say it's both."

"What about the healing?" Alicia asked.

"Something we all share," Tenth confirmed. "The old gods were immortal; we are not, but we retain something of their ability to heal."

Tenth coughed into the momentary silence.

"You said they were locked away," Alicia commented, thoughtful. "Can they escape?"

Tenth seemed reluctant to answer, hesitating for a long moment before they replied. "Some say yes. Some say such ideas are a tale to frighten young Legacies into behaving and using their power for good." Tenth shrugged. "But the magic that sealed away the old gods is ancient, lost to time."

"Why were they locked away?" Jared asked. "And who locked them away?"

Tenth coughed again, more harshly this time, drawing a concerned look from Xae. "Forgive me, I have been ill of late. My time is drawing near."

"Your time?" Jared asked.

"As I said, I share more with the Phoenix than Chinese myth dictates." Tenth paused. "I will die soon," they said simply, "and another will rise in my place, different of mind and feature, but still the same creature in essence. They will also be Fenghuang, and while they will share my knowledge, they will retain only a fraction of my memories. The things that comprised 'me' will not manifest in them. My dreams, my passions… my love."

Tenth glanced at Xae as they said that last, and Xae looked over, meeting their gaze. There was a sadness and a vulnerability present in both of them, but Jensen could also see that they had both resigned themselves unhappily to the truth, despite the obvious emotion between them.

"So you have to be reborn," Jared mused, his voice soft.

"In a manner of speaking." Tenth looked away from Xae, returning their attention to Jared. "As I said, the Fenghuang who rises in my place will not be _me_."

"So is Tenth your name, or the number of your incarnations?" Jared asked.

Tenth's mouth curled in a bitter smile, and they shook their head. "It is simply what I have always been called, as long as anyone can remember."

"You mean you don't know?" Jensen asked, and somehow that seemed the saddest of all.

"No." The answer was given without emotion. "But it does not matter to the position I hold. I am the leader of those Legacies that would align themselves with a cause. Those dedicated to keeping ourselves secret from humanity and using our abilities mostly for good purposes."

"What about the ones like Lex?"

"Those like Lex defy unity and defer to their nature, preying on humans. Although in his particular case, his very nature prevents those mainly of human blood from remembering him."

"That's why I couldn't remember what he looked like," Jared realized aloud.

Tenth nodded. "But others like him are not so blessed. That is where tales of monsters glimpsed in modern day come from."

"What do you do about them?" Jensen asked.

"We have agents in law enforcement and the media that help cover things up. If they present too much trouble, they have to be eliminated."

Jensen didn't feel a need to ask for clarification on that, and apparently neither did anyone else. He could sense that it didn't sit well with any of them, and imagined Tenth and Xae could feel that as well.

"Only in the most extreme of cases, you understand," Tenth continued after a moment. "When it would cause war, or reveal us to the human population."

Jensen shifted his weight, still feeling uneasy with the idea and glanced over at Jared. Jared's attention was fixed intently on Tenth, light frown marring his brow as he seemed to try and puzzle something out. Jared took a breath and Jensen thought he was about to ask another question when Tenth cut him off.

"And what of you, keeper? Are you not interested in your role in all of this?"

"My role?" Jared sounded perplexed. "I'm human…?

"I knew your grandfather," Tenth said with a smile. "Alvin wasn't a true Legacy, but he had just a touch fairy blood, and he understood magic. He made nearly every Legacy door in this city. He had a rare talent, a keen eye, and a wicked sense of humor. He provided travel for all of us through the hub of his business, many years ago."

"You mean through the Hall of Doors." Jared seemed somewhat surprised by the information about his grandfather, but he didn't let it slow him down. "Xae explained it's on one of the thinnest spots."

"That is true, but it is more than that. The space the Hall of Doors occupies is a nexus point of energies. And our kind are drawn to such places. Even those of us who don't know why, or even what we are," they said, looking meaningfully at Jensen.

"I wasn't drawn to anything," Jensen protested. "I… I was in hurry to leave Philly and DC was the next closest city to the south."

"You could have kept driving. You could have gone further south, or rented a room on the other side of the city. You said yourself you thought living above a club was risky because of so many people in proximity to your ability. And yet you chose that particular place."

Jensen glanced surreptitiously at Jared and knew he'd had other reasons, even if he hadn't wanted to admit them.

"The magic contained in your club has lain dormant for decades. Now that it's been awakened again, more of us will flock to it."

Jared looked fairly shaken by that. "That's…" Jared hesitated, ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure what to think about that."

"You have some time, but you should decide how you'd like to handle the situation." Tenth smiled and made an encompassing gesture with one hand. "The Coalescence could easily help protect your establishment, should you choose to work with us. It would very beneficial to the Coalescence to have access to the Hall of Doors."

"I think we all need some time," Alicia said, her tone dark and as suspicious as Jensen felt.

"As you wish," Tenth said, seeming unbothered. "Legacies of every descent are welcome. And you won't be forced. But we do provide a community, and a measure of protection you won't find elsewhere."

"You have any pamphlets?" Jensen inquired. "I love a good pamphlet. Maybe one with a side of religious terror?"

His sarcasm fell flat against the room, although he saw Jared's mouth twitch.

"We'll take it under advisement," Jensen said, rising to his feet and planning to do nothing of the sort.

"Until next time." Tenth lifted one hand in farewell.

Xae was on her feet, already herding them toward the door. She led them back through the maze of hallways Jensen still thought was connected to a club, but the path she took seemed completely different than the first time, and Jensen was sure they were lost more than once. At last they were back on the street and she walked them to the huge arch over the street, everyone quietly lost in their own thoughts.

"You should take the Metro back to the club," Xae said, nodding at the Metro marker by the escalator down.

That seemed logical to Jensen: they'd had no business being in her apartment in the first place, why should she want them there now? Not to mention it was unlikely he'd be able to get the door to open to the right place again, as drained as he felt. Plus, he thought, looking at the long shadows stretching along the street, club staff would be on site by now. It wouldn't do to come tumbling out of a door in the wall in front of them. 

"What if we need to get in touch with you?" Alicia asked as Xae began to depart.

"You know where I live," she said, as if that were enough.

"That seems a _little_ archaic," Jared noted.

"Open a door and yell." Xae grinned and turned away, disappearing amidst a crowd of people.

"Shouldn't we…" Jared trailed off, looking at Jensen.

"Come on." Jensen felt too tired to care about much else besides lying down soon. "Let's go—" he cut himself off, realizing what he'd been about to say, and cleared his throat.

"Let's go," he repeated instead, as if that had been what he'd meant to say all along.

  
  
*    *    *

  
They rode the Metro in silence. It wasn't as if they could have talked about what had happened in front of the other passengers, but Jensen felt like it went deeper than that. Jensen didn't feel ready to talk about any of it yet, still shell shocked from everything that had happened. The events at the Saves Nine Tailor Shop seemed like they had happened weeks ago rather than just hours, and he was struggling to get his head around it all. 

_Valkyrie_ , he thought, tightening his grip on the metal pole he was holding onto.

Alicia left them first at the stop near her home, neither her nor Jared saying anything about her missing work that evening. She hugged Jared goodbye, holding on a moment longer than strictly necessary, gave Jensen a nod, and then left the car without a word.

After she'd gone, Jensen could feel the silence between he and Jared in a way he hadn't when Alicia had still been there. Jensen was far too aware of how close Jared was standing to him, and he could almost feel Jared, as if Jared were this-close to brushing up against him, even though there were inches separating them. Jensen felt the silence build like tension between them until it seemed it would burst, and still he said nothing. Nothing as they exited the car, nothing as they rode the escalator back up to the street, nothing for the several blocks they walked to the club, and even more nothing as they walked up the stairs to their apartments.

Jensen hesitated on the landing as they arrived, feeling as though more nothing were somehow unacceptable in parting ways.

Jared pushed his hands into his jean pockets, turning to face Jensen, and Jensen noticed for the first time that Jared's feet were still bare from when Jensen had puked on his shoes earlier. Had Jensen even apologized for that?

"Do you want some company?" Jared asked, his voice low and husky. Any other time, Jensen would have thought Jared was flirting with him, but Jared just looked tired and concerned, and like maybe he could use some concern, himself.

"No," Jensen replied. It had been a long day, but he didn't want to leave Jared like this. Jensen took a breath and steeled himself, bringing up his mental shields as he reached out and tugged at Jared's wrist, pulling Jared's hand free of his pocket and closing his own around it. "But thank you." He looked Jared in the eye and smiled. 

There were crinkles at the corners of Jared's eyes when he smiled back, the kind that would deepen into creases and eventually wrinkles, the older he got, but even then, he'd probably still be impossibly handsome. With those hazel eyes and luscious lips set into an angular face that looked almost chiseled, tanned skin and light brown hair framing his face, he looked like a movie star, but there was nothing of acting in the way he looked at Jensen, talked to Jensen.

In another time, another place, if Jensen were a completely different person… he thought he could have loved Jared.

No, he _would_ have.

The lines from a song drifted through his mind:

_"If I fall for you, I'll never recover._

_If I fall for you, I'll never be the same."_

"I understand." Jared lifted Jensen's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to Jensen's fingers. "Good night, Jack," Jared said, gazing at Jensen across the ridge of Jensen's knuckles.

"Good night, Boy Wonder." Jensen drew breath into his lungs, suddenly moved to say something more… and then the words curdled in his throat, dying stillborn.

A moment later, Jared gave Jensen his hand back, gently releasing his hold, and then Jared turned, disappearing through the door to his apartment.

Jensen stood beneath the threadbare light in the hallway, surrounded by lime green walls, the sound of a name that wasn't his echoing in his ears.

After a moment, he turned and let himself inside his apartment, rapidly losing the momentary peace Jared's presence had given him.

Jared.

Maybe if Jensen weren't on the run from more than the monster stored in his subconscious, maybe if he'd had a clue as to what he was going to do about that, maybe if he hadn't been a fucking _Valkyrie_ in the first place—Jared didn't even know his real name—

"It's about time," spoke a voice caught somewhere between dark and light.

Tenth sat on Jensen's couch, body upright in loose fitting black clothing and feet resting on the floor. They seemed diminished somehow in the bright overhead light of Jensen's apartment, dark circles beneath their eyes, olive complexion a shade too pale, and nothing of the fire Jensen had glimpsed in their eyes was present.

Xae sat beside them, dressed in the same pale pink shirt and black pants she'd been wearing earlier, but now she also wore an oxblood colored, short-cropped leather jacket with tiny buttons and decorative pins dotting the front of it. Her hair was styled smoothly against her skull so that the dark-pink part framed her face. In her left hand, she twirled a knife with what seemed like absent thought, spinning it over and over across her fingers.

"We need to talk," Tenth said, and steepled their fingers together.

Jensen stared at them, a sigh wanting to escape his lips, but any satisfaction it might have given them was more than he was willing to part with. They must have taken the magic doors to Jensen's apartment, and Jensen made a mental note to talk to Jared about getting a new door.

"Did you forget something?" Jensen asked, wry as he walked past them, around the formica counter to the kitchen. "Don't get me wrong," he went on, taking a glass from the cupboard and beginning to fill it with tap water. "I appreciated the answers earlier, but I'm not interested in joining your…" he waved at the air with one hand before shutting off the tap, "little club."

"Not exactly." Tenth's gaze followed Jensen's movements, curious. "I need something from you." 

"Huh," Jensen huffed and leaned back against the sink, taking a sip from his glass, having had about enough for one day. "Imagine that."

Tenth appeared to ignore Jensen's response. "Jack, there isn't much time. The place I reside is too warded for what I need from you, and the wards in this place are too old and weak to protect me. I've put myself at great risk, coming here."

Jensen's sigh escaped him at last and he set the glass down against the formica. "What do you want?"

 "I need you to take a memory from me. A very dangerous memory."

Jensen almost laughed. "Well that doesn't sound like a bad idea _at all_."

Tenth seemed to ignore Jensen's response. "When we spoke earlier, Alicia asked about the spell used to hold the old gods away from this world, whether or not it could be undone."

Jensen's brows drew together, and he focused on the other person more intently. "Yeah, I remember. You said it was ancient, that you didn't think it could be undone."

Tenth nodded, jaw muscles tensing briefly. "I lied."

For approximately the one hundred and forty seventh time that day, Jensen was utterly unsurprised.

"Some time ago," Tenth said, focusing on the steeple of their hands before them, "when this incarnation was younger, I found the ritual. This is knowledge no one should possess, Jack. Should it fall into the wrong hands—"

"It wouldn't be my problem," Jensen cut Tenth off before they could continue.

If Jensen had hit them, he didn't think Tenth's expression could have shown more betrayal and confusion. "If it should fall into the wrong hands, the old gods would be released again." Tenth gave Jensen a doubtful look. "I'm not sure you can fathom what that would mean for humanity—for us."

"Fathoming never was my strong suit." Jensen smirked.

For the first time, Jensen saw the fire in the other's irises flare, flickering brightly at the edges. Sparks seemed to leap from them as they stared Jensen down, intent. Jensen had thought Xae seemed formidable when he'd met her; Tenth had seemed unthreatening. _Maybe that's what you were_ **_supposed_ ** _to think_ , Jensen thought, because at that moment, Tenth was rapidly turning scary right before Jensen's eyes.

"Even now," they said, "there is something searching for me. To take this spell from my head and use it." 

Jensen understood the issue, but he wasn't sure why Tenth seemed to think Jensen cared about any of this. "Still not seeing how this is my problem." 

Tenth's expression darkened, the light lines in their face going taut. "The old gods that once ruled this world were supremely powerful beyond anything we can imagine. Humanity was little more than a toy to them—a dalliance, an amusement. After being locked away for so long, do you think they would show gratitude to the ones who released them? Or do you think they'd be more likely to wipe out everything that had anything to do with their imprisonment?"

The answer to the question seemed obvious, and Jensen remained silent.

"It is not simply that I possess this knowledge," Tenth admitted, their tone more even. "I was not alone when I found this spell. Many years ago, another stood as my bodyguard and aide, as Xae does now. Her name was Veronique, and she was a Chimera, extremely gifted. A spell that dark and powerful is not meant for human minds. With our human blood, even Legacies are not built to withstand the knowledge of such a spell. It was too late for me, but I used a spell of my own to shield as much of it as I could from her, for her own protection. I explained that she must forget what she had seen."

Jensen resigned himself to hearing the rest of what Tenth had to say. "Let me guess: she didn't."

Tenth's face fell, going somber, and Xae looked at them with an open sympathy that surprised Jensen.

Tenth's eyes were haunted by memory as they began to speak. "The spell… ate away at her. She attempted to perform the ritual to unleash the old gods. Since her version was incomplete, she failed to open the prison. But the ritual was powerful enough to rip a tear in the weave, and she became lost in a rift. I thought her gone forever." Jensen could hear true sadness in Tenth's tone now. "I mourned her death. And I was right to, but not for the reasons I thought. Time flows differently in the rifts. Centuries or eons may pass within them. To dwell there momentarily is to go mad… to spend that long…" Tenth trailed off and shook their head. "There is nothing of the woman I knew left in her body."

"She came back?" Jensen asked, despite himself.

Tenth nodded. "One of the only ones I have ever known to return. She is Twice-Born. Born once as a Legacy, and again as this creature that inhabits her form. She hunts me even now, knowing I have the true spell locked inside my mind." 

"Why can't one of your… Coalescence Legacies take it?"

"The Coalescence has strict rules on memory erasure. They do not care for knowledge to be lost among our kind. And there are none among us who can erase memories or take them. All of the Legacies with that ability are unaligned, as Lex is."

"So it's against the rules," Jensen surmised, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Rules are useful," Tenth allowed. "But only up to a certain point." 

Maybe Jensen didn't dislike Tenth as much as he'd first thought. Still…

"You know you've got the wrong guy, right? I'm not Lex, but I'm not a hero, your secret isn't my responsibility, and I wouldn't have the first idea how to do it, even if I cared." Jensen frowned and shook his head slightly. "It seems like I can't see the memories of… our kind, anyway."

"You can if we willingly allow you to see them, as Lex did."

"Okay. Maybe I could see the memory, but I still couldn't… rip it out of your brain."

"You are Valkyrie. You _do_ take them, from those who are dying. Not usually the good ones, the ones filled with valor and glory, such as those things may be. Your kind take the ones filled with regret and pain. The moments on the battlefield when something was lost, when a life was irreparably shattered. You deliver them to the afterlife, whole again. The loss of innocence, of friends, exists only within you."

The implications of that seemed potentially ominous. "Wait… you're saying… I have all these horrible memories trapped somewhere inside my skull?"

Xae glanced over at Tenth and they met her gaze for a moment.

"There are few Valkyrie in the world, Jack, and those few who do exist do not fare well. If your blood were pure, unmixed with human, you would be able to absorb those memories and remain unaffected. But because you are partially human, some of those memories may remain. Over time they may bubble to the surface and drive you mad."

Jensen lifted his head and nodded once with the whole of it, his lips parted, horror running through him. "Bonus," he breathed.

"Of course, that may never happen at all. You are… you are unique, Jack. Not simply because you are a male Valkyrie. I sense something within you unlike anything I have sensed before."

Jensen shoved away the feelings coursing through him. "Yeah, I heard that from Lex, too. Is this some kind of get in my pants thing? Because I'm really not interested."

"I need you to take me seriously," Tenth said with edge of irritation. "If the Twice-Born obtains the spell, this world will be destroyed. You, your friends Alicia and Jared, will cease to exist. You act as if you don't care about anyone else, but I think their survival may matter to you."

Jensen had spent the last ten years of his life not forming ties with anyone for various reasons, but being responsible for the end of the world had never been on the list. He'd made a mistake, allowing himself to become even somewhat attached. He could leave the world to its fate and not feel responsible, but the world was an abstract concept—something that existed on a large scale outside of Jensen. In the world, he was one among billions, and the responsibility could have fallen to any of them. But Alicia and Jared weren't concepts, they weren't billions of strangers. He couldn't abandon them to fate; not when he could do something about it. 

That didn't mean he had to like it.

"That's low." Jensen uttered the words like a curse.

"I know," was all Tenth said. The words sounded like an apology.

Jensen pressed his lips into a firm, thin line, fingers flexing into momentary fists as he thought it through. "You said the spell corrupted her. That even just seeing _part_ of the spell corrupted her. What chance do I have?"

"The language it's written in is ancient. Veronique and I studied it intensely. You won't understand it. The Valkyrie part of you may understand some of it, but not enough to be dangerous." 

Jensen heard the lingering, unfinished quality of that sentence. "You hope," he finished for Tenth.

Tenth breathed out a sigh. "Yes. I hope. I will erect protection in your mind around it, as much as I can."

Jensen didn't need to ask what would happen if the protection failed. "Why didn't the spell corrupt you?"

"What makes you think it didn't?" Tenth's smile was enigmatic.

Jensen supposed he only had one more question. "If I say yes… if I take this memory, how much physical danger will I be in?"

"None, I hope. The Twice-Born may pursue my next incarnation, believing they retain the memory, but they will be far stronger than I am, able to elude her, and if necessary, fight her. But we must hurry."

"How do we—" Jensen stopped, distracted by an odd sound. From somewhere behind him, Jensen heard the faint creaking of wood and turned, squinting in the direction of the source.

The door to his apartment rippled, straining briefly against the hinges.

"Now," Tenth cried, motioning Jensen to them. "She comes." 

"She's… she's coming here?" Jensen asked, feeling his blood turn to dust in his veins. He wasn't prepared for this. Tenth was ill and Xae… well, Xae could probably hold her own, he guessed. He hoped.

"I had hoped we would evade her but we've taken too long. Now," Tenth yelled out, above the sound of twisting, splintering wood, and Jensen ran to Tenth, sliding the last few feet across the thin carpet on his knees.

"Hold on to me," Tenth commanded. "Reach for the memory I show you and _pull_."

Jensen hesitated only an instant before he reached out, fingertips sliding across Tenth's forearm. Wind had begun to pick up inside the apartment somehow, and the crunching sound of wood behind him didn't bode well for their future.

"Why are you giving me this?" Jensen asked and looked directly into Tenth's eyes, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I have to. And because I believe you are more than you know. Now see, and pull."

Jensen reached out, latching onto the image Tenth showed him. Clumsy and fumbling, and he didn't know how to do this, how to take something from someone and make it part of him. Maybe the other part of him did, but he was lost, gasping and barely treading water. "I… can't. This… the human part of me doesn't know how."

"Give yourself to the other, then," Tenth hissed, insistent.

Jensen tried to reach for the Valkyrie inside him without knowing how. A pale gray sky filled with rain flashed behind Jensen's eyes, then blackness and the sickening crunch of metal, and he shoved the memory away, panicking.

"I can't," he gasped. If it meant going through that memory, he'd let the world burn first.

"Come Valkyrie," Tenth commanded, and Jensen could feel the deepest center of him pull, straining against the cage inside him, all fire and talons, slicing at the bars. It shoved past his memories and Jensen closed his eyes, nails digging into the skin of Tenth's arm, feeling his protective walls crumble to sand, the ignition of flame along the lines of his bone. 

Jensen was assaulted by a jumble of letters and symbols, paradigms beyond his comprehension. Words and intent written in a language that was old when the world was new danced across his brain, tantalizingly close but beyond his reach. Pulsing heartbeat within his mind and then it receded, diminishing, slowly fading into blackness. The Valkyrie smiled with his mouth, understanding far more than he did. From behind him came the roar of wind as wood shattered violently, and then Jensen was gone, pulled down the throat of swirling letters and infinite possibility.


	6. Chapter 6

Jensen's awareness returned to discover complete chaos. The floor _thumpa thumpa'd_ , vibrating beneath Jensen's feet, and he had a moment to be grateful no one downstairs could hear anything.

The apartment door was obliterated, shards of wood scattered everywhere, some of them sticking out of Jensen's skin at odd angles. For a moment he thought it strange that he couldn't feel them, and then he _saw_ —

His body was aflame, fire licking over it like second skin, and from his shoulders new bones had grown and risen, spanning out into huge wings that dripped flame and sizzled sparks, ash falling from them like snow. 

_Valkyrie_.

He marveled that it didn't burn, his clothing intact, and knew he must be in the Meridian.

All around him, the world was in shambles, chaotic yells and movements he couldn't quite understand, his mind not completely his own. He could feel the awareness of the Valkyrie brush up against his, as if tasting him, testing him, two separate entities housed in one body, and Jensen pushed into the feel, trying to merge with it before it shut him out and took over again.

Veronique, the Twice-Born, floated in the open doorway, her bare toes scraping the floor beneath the hem of her long, white, diaphanous dress. Black veins pulsed beneath her milk pale skin, and her eyes were mad, orange-red fire that nearly matched the color of her long, red hair. That hair, too, floated, strands swirling and twisting like snakes licking the air; her skin stark white—whiter than fish bellies or the dead or anything that had ever been alive—and she moved with purpose through the space between them without moving a muscle of her body.

She veered past Jensen straight for Tenth, and Xae leapt between them, knife blade held before her. Jensen could see Xae's features melt momentarily like wax, saw the impression of scales covering her skin, and then she exploded with golden light.

The Twice-Born hissed and flinched away as if the light scorched her, and Xae wasted no time, getting an arm under Tenth and pulling them from the couch.

"Cover us," Xae hissed at Jensen.

Jensen stared at her and wondered how. It was a wonder he was aware at all; he had no idea what the Valkyrie's capabilities were.

 _-In the chest_ \- a voice whispered in his mind, and it was many voices at once, all of them feminine and melodic like a chorus of deadly angels.

The Twice-Born was already moving, flinging out a hand to halt Xae and Tenth, and inside him, Jensen felt the strange weight of something shift.

Jared ran into the apartment through the open doorway then, stopping with his jaw hanging open as he sighted the Twice-Born.

"What the hell?" Jared gasped.

Jensen could see her as Jared could not: the snarling, scarred muzzle of a lion protruding from her right shoulder, its eyes vivid red, its shaggy, unkempt mane crusted thick with blood and grime. The black head of a demonic goat rose from her left shoulder with violet eyes and pointed teeth, its horns short and unnaturally sharp, lightning sparking on the air between them. From her back rose a long reptilian neck, the head of a terrible dragon at its end, scales dark as coal and eyes sickly green. The dragon's face weaved back and forth in the air like a snake's, pale, mottled tongue flickering out, poised as if to strike.

All around the heads, reality screamed and warped, and Jensen could see the shape of them flickering between the Meridian and somewhere else, solid one moment, and the next shadows that ripped and tore at the weave itself. Jensen felt everything around him happening in slow motion, feet rooted to the floor, terror beating in his veins. Inside him he could feel that strange weight solidify, becoming stronger.

Jared was between the Twice-Born and Tenth, and the Chimera raised her hand, blackened nails slicing the air as she backhanded Jared aside with a swift movement.

"Jared," Jensen cried out, reaching out with a futile gesture. Jared lay against the wall, his eyes closed, body at an odd angle, and Jensen started to move toward him.

 _-He is alive._ \- said the Valkyrie inside him. - _Focus.-_

Jensen coughed, weight inside him beginning to burn, fire sweeping up through his spine to his ribs, and he felt like he was being incinerated from the inside out. He clawed at his chest, overcome by the need to rip the sensation from his body and some instinct, perhaps the Valkyrie's, guided him then.

One hand rose to his breast, fingers curved and hardened as he laid them against bone. Then his fingers slipped beneath, tangling in the swirl and eddy of his blood, passing through bone, and he threw back his head, screaming against the white hot pain. His heart beat and his lungs breathed, and he could feel their motions as they moved, so near his fingers, grasping digits sharp as knives punched through his chest, rummaging around inside himself like some sort of junk drawer. His screams trailed off as gasping, sweating, and shuddering with effort, his fingers clutched upon what they sought. Chest bleeding, every limb trembling with the power of his will, he pulled it forth, felt it break free with a thick tearing sound and a final ragged roar.

In his hands was a flaming silver broadsword, five feet long and gleaming with a razor sharp blade, its surface shimmering with the gossamer threads of dreams. All around it, pieces of Jensen's flesh and blood still clung, pulsing like the beat of a heart, wreathed in dark power and humanity. 

The Twice-Born descended on Xae as she stood valiantly before Tenth, shielding them, and the Twice-Born lifted a clawed hand, closing it into a fist. Xae screamed in pain and Jensen thought he could see her golden light shiver before it extinguished. 

_-Now_ \- the Valkyrie whispered, and as one, they swung the sword together, whirling in a half circle to build momentum. It slammed home into the Chimera's side, and the creature's head flew back, howling in rage as metal cleaved through flesh.

The monster heads screamed and dissolved into ether as Jensen yanked the sword free, stumbling back a pace. 

The Twice-Born turned on Jensen as if it had forgotten Tenth existed, her head flopping to one side like a ragdoll's as she surveyed him. One bony, clawed hand swept over her side, healing the wound there as it passed. Flesh and material alike were mended with the motion, and Jensen had a moment to wonder if it were even possible to harm her.

Moving with terrifying swiftness, she flashed through the air, inside the reach of Jensen's sword, her clawed fingers closing around his throat. Her nails cut into his flesh, scorching with the thin burn of something acidic as they pierced his skin, and then his air was cut off. His feet jerked and kicked as she lifted him from the floor, her other hand closing around the arm that held his sword, and her touch in that hand _burned_ , cauterizing skin, squeezing muscle and tendon until it popped and screamed, his fingers opening, sword clattering to the floor.

The world began to gray and then blacken, colors spinning away to a point like being sucked down a drain. Jensen reached up and grabbed the wrist of the hand choking him with his free hand, trying to tear it free. He saw the wings extending from his body curl around him and begin to wilt, dissipating and flickering out with his consciousness.

 _~Help me_ ~ he pleaded with his mind, reaching for the Valkyrie inside him.

He could feel the surge of power and strength through his veins, but his air was nearly gone, spots dancing before his eyes. His fingers scrabbled at the Twice-Born's wrist ineffectively and then fell away completely. He hung there, suspended from her grasp, life leaving him. 

As his eyes began to slide closed, a blade point suddenly emerged through the pale column of the Twice-Born's throat. 

This time the Chimera screamed in something that might have been actual pain, head snapping back as she released her hold on Jensen. He fell to the floor, lungs burning as they gasped in air, and saw Xae standing behind the creature, another blade in her hand. The Twice-Born spun and Xae didn't hesitate, thrusting the point of the blade into the creature's heart all the way to the hilt. 

The Twice-Born roared in fury and pain, fine mist pouring forth from her mouth, and Xae fell back almost too fast to track, shoulder hitting the floor before she did a backward roll, landing upright on her heels and out of range of the creature's breath.

An instant later the Twice-Born flew through the air with reckless speed, heading into the hallway and directly to Jared's door.

Xae launched to her feet, muscles in her arms coiling as she pushed off the floor, and she moved so quickly Jensen could barely see her, form blurring against the background. It was the last thing he saw before he passed out completely.  
  


  


art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

*    *    *  


The ceiling above Jensen seemed to spin in a slow circle as he opened his eyes and blinked. After a moment it came into clear focus and ceased turning, and he realized it was the ceiling of his apartment, recognizing one tiny gray water spot at the edge of the wall as the one over his couch. Everything seemed quiet now, and he was too aware of his own breathing.

 _Jared_ , he thought, and tried to move.

Instantly there were hands on him and Alicia's face appeared above him with a stern expression.

"Don't move," she told him, pushing him firmly into the couch.

"Jared?" he asked, voice seeming to creak from his throat.

"Jared's fine," Alicia assured him. "Just some bruises. I'm more worried about you. You were poisoned by that… thing."

"Her nails," Xae spoke up as her face popped into Jensen view beside Alicia. "Chimera's possess abilities of fire, lightning and poison."

Jensen could feel something acidic pulsing in the veins around the cuts she had left on his throat, and his esophagus felt so swollen he wondered how he could breathe at all, but he couldn't have cared less.

"Where is he?" Jensen demanded as best he could.

"Is he awake?" Jared's voice was rushed and he sounded out of breath as he appeared next to Xae, wearing an expression of concern even more intense than Alicia's.

"Ain't you two a pair," Alicia muttered with a brief roll of her eyes.

Jensen looked Jared over and smiled to see the relief in Jared's eyes. Jared seemed unharmed except for a light scratch and a mild bruise on his forehead.

"Tenth?" Jensen asked after a moment, looking at Xae.

"I got Tenth out before I attacked her." She had the grace to look momentarily guilty. "I would've have helped you sooner, but the Auctoritas' safety is more important than anyone else's." 

_Not to mention you're in love with them_ , Jensen thought, but didn't bother trying to say.

"Am I going to live?" This question was also directed at Xae. 

"Possibly," Xae said, smile tugging at her mouth, and Jensen thought, not for the first time, that she had a wicked sense of humor. "Normally the poison from a Chimera's nails is only enough to sicken and weaken someone like us for a time. But she… she is no longer a mere Chimera."

Jensen knew, he had seen. "Why did she… did she _breathe_ on you?"

"Corrosive gas poison," Xae told him. "Chimera's usually only use it in the Prime as a last resort since it requires manifesting. So it can kill them if they're not careful." The last remnants of the smile had faded from Xae's face, and she was solemn as she said, "Although in this case, I don't think that's true."

"What do you mean?" Jensen asked.

"I mean both of the knives I put into her were made with lead, which is deadly to Chimeras. The one I put through her throat should have incapacitated her breath ability. The one through her heart should have killed her. You saw how lively she was when she left." Xae shook her head, seeming troubled. "Her time in the rift has made her stronger, perhaps consuming her human blood entirely. The old gods are immortal, but she may be unkillable."

"Great." Jensen's eyes fluttered closed.

He meant to close them only for a moment, but darkness swept him under again.  
  
  


*    *    *  


The next time he woke, it was morning, according to the light that slanted in through the blinds. Jared was slumped back in a chair near the end of the couch, and in the kitchen, he could see Alicia quietly rummaging through one of the cabinets for something.

His throat was still sore, but the swelling seemed better, and he couldn't feel his veins burning anymore. He reached up, gingerly touching the base of his throat and felt the edge of the bandage covering the wound. He blinked at the skin on his right forearm, noticing the lack of a burned in handprint there, and traced his fingers over the smooth skin.

 _-We are born of fire. It cannot long harm us_.- It was the voice of the Valkyrie that whispered inside his mind, and Jensen sighed.

So _that_ was still a thing, then.

"You're awake," Alicia said, and Jensen looked over, seeing that she had departed the kitchen, having abandoned whatever search she'd been on. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Jensen replied. He blinked again, his eyes dry and feeling scratchy, started to rub at them and then thought the better of it. "Except for my eyes. My contacts are killing me," he groaned.

"You even need those things to see?" Alicia asked, raising a brow at him. 

"No," Jensen admitted, and Alicia huffed out a confused laugh. "Could you get me the lens case from the bathroom medicine cabinet?" Jensen asked, already beginning to pop the first one out.

Alicia retrieved the case and let Jensen finish removing his contacts. When he was done, she moved to peel the bandage away from Jensen's throat, her brows rising as she surveyed the damage. "It _is_ better. But you're still healing. At least you're not gonna die from poison."

"I count that in the plus column."

A soft snort caught the attention of both of them, drawing their eyes to the chair where Jared roused, eyes blinking open with surprise to focus on them. His face lit up, wide smile gracing his lips as he saw them, and then rubbed at his face, pushing his hair back behind his ears as he peered at Jensen with bleary eyes. "Hey, you. How are you?"

"Doc here says I'm better."

"You look better." Jared's smile faltered and then fell from his face entirely. "Jesus, Jack, you should have seen your neck last night. It looked like a horror show, green veins and purple skin." Jared shuddered at the memory.

"Tell me you got pictures," Jensen deadpanned, and Jared chuckled.

Jensen glanced over to the side, seeing the open doorway where the door to his apartment had once stood. "I'm gonna need a new door. In fact, we're gonna need new doors everywhere that isn't connected directly to the club."

Jared nodded. "I already ordered some from Home Depot. It might take a few days, but we'll get it done."

Jensen just hoped a few days wasn't too long.

"Is there coffee?" Jared seemed hopeful as he looked at Alicia.

Alicia pointed in the direction of the coffee maker on one of the tiny kitchen counters and Jared pushed up from his seat, stretching his arms high over his head and yawning. As he did, Jensen got a nice view of Jared's well-muscled, flat stomach, his jeans riding low enough on his hips that Jensen could see just the top of the inner curve of Jared's hipbone. Jared shook out his hair and walked to the kitchen. When Jensen looked back to Alicia she was wearing a smirk and shaking her head at him.

But instead of commenting, she replaced the bandage on Jensen's neck and stood, walking over to the counter dividing the living room and kitchen and picking up an open book.

"I've been doing some reading," she said, turning a page. "About Amazons. Did you know they think the name comes from the Greek words, a, meaning 'without', and mazos, 'breasts'?

Jared nodded and took a sip from Jensen's white ceramic coffee mug reading, 'Might be vodka' on it. "Yeah. The theory is, Greeks believed Amazons cut off their breasts so they could use a bow and arrow more effectively." 

Alicia laughed. "Just goes to show men wrote this crap," she said and shook her head. "Like boobs ever stopped Diana, or Katniss." 

"Didn't they also say the Amazons were lesbians who killed their male children?" Jensen asked Jared. He wasn't a mythology expert but he vaguely remembered reading that somewhere. Across the room, Alicia let the book fall a few inches, looking at Jensen oddly.

Jared nodded again. "Yeah, they did."

"The Greeks said all Amazons were lesbians?" Alicia asked, frowning at Jared. "And you don't think that's weirdly coincidental?"

It was on the tip of Jensen's tongue to ask why, but then it clicked and he understood.

"Not really," Jared replied with a shrug.

"Do you…" Alicia's frown deepened, thoughtful as she focused on Jared. "Do you think maybe that's why I'm a lesbian?" Her voice seemed smaller, more diminished than usual. "Because I'm an Amazon?"

Jared walked around the counter and slung an arm around her shoulders. "You're a lesbian because you're a lesbian, not because a bunch of guys who wore sheets said so. Fuck the Greeks. The only thing the Greeks loved more than tragedy was maligning women."

Alicia chuckled at that, tilting her head against Jared's shoulder for a moment. "Wasn't that all historians?"

"Yeah. Fuck them, too." Jared grinned, squeezed her against his side and planted a kiss on the crown of her head.

Watching them together, Jensen felt warmth rise in his chest, contentment and longing all at once. He might never be as close to them as they were to each other, but he was glad they had each other.

Jared released Alicia then, floor creaking slightly as he sauntered back over to the chair across from Jensen. Jared stretched once more, careful not to spill his coffee, and gave Jensen a glorious view of his abs in the moment before he sat down. Jensen would have wondered if it was deliberate, but Jared was being far too casual to be putting on a show. 

Jared leaned forward on the chair, elbows resting against his knees, coffee cup held between his latticed hands. His plain, pale green shirt clung like second skin across his broad shoulders and wide chest, and it appeared, as usual, to be two sizes too small for him. Jensen absently hoped Jared never figured out his actual shirt size.

Jared's expression was serious as he regarded Jensen. "Even if we replace the doors to our area of the building, there are still all the doors in the club. I talked to Xae about the warding on the building, she said it's old and weak. The Coalescence has books, spells we could use if we joined them but…"

"Screw that." Jensen's voice was guttural with more than the damage that had been done to his throat.

"Yeah." Jared nodded and shifted his shoulders back and forth, as if working up to something. "So… when you're feeling better, I need you to open some doors for me."

"What? Why?" Jensen asked, blinking in confusion.

"My grandfather knew magic. He had to have had spell books, grimoires somewhere. I've never come across them in all these years, so maybe he hid them behind one of the magic doors."

"How many doors did you grandfather make, again?" Jensen asked.

"A lot," Jared admitted, sighing. "But, I think I know where to start. There's storage on the far side of the building—the side my apartment is on. There's another stairwell on that side that he used for door storage. I keep it locked up because one stairwell is enough. I figure if it's anywhere, it's tucked away in there." 

"And how many doors are in there?"

"On the top landing? Maybe twenty. Hey," Jared said, off Jensen's skeptical look, "it's not exactly needle in a haystack odds. It's got to be one of the doors here. He wouldn't have put important books like that too far from where he could reach them."

" _If_ they exist," Jensen said, doubtful.

"If they do, then we'll find them, right?" Jared flashed Jensen one of his million kilowatt smiles. 

Jensen thought about that for a moment, and then he nodded. It wasn't as if he could have said no to that smile, anyway.  
  


*    *    *

 

The day passed quietly, Jared and Alicia coming and going, Jensen mostly laid out on the couch, watching TV and occasionally reading about creatures in the mythology book Alicia had brought with her.

He lingered over the passage detailing Incubi and it became clear to him that Lex had used his power to lull Jensen, to seduce him. It wasn't written under the traditional mythological entry, but Jensen supposed being able to read surface thoughts made it that much easier for Lex to work his magic. Added to what Tenth had told them about legacy Incubi being forgotten by humans, it made Lex a nearly perfect predator. There was nothing in the text about dissolving into shadow, but Jensen supposed that was a mystery for another time. 

He spent some time working up to reading the entry on Valkyrie. From the old Norse word 'valkyrja', Valkyrie meant 'Chooser of the slain', specifically in the field of battle. Jensen thought that was a bit grandiose, considering he didn't choose so much as get terrified by the surprise of violent energy around those about to die, and none of them had been on a battlefield. Still, he supposed it kept with the idea of the myth that the Valkyrie within him collected the souls of the dead and somehow moved them into the afterlife. There was no mention of seeing or taking memories, or of pulling flaming swords from their chests, although they were depicted as wielding swords in the book images. Some images showed them on flying horses, others with wings of their own.

Jared nailed a blanket up over Jensen's doorway and told him the new doors should arrive the following day. Shortly afterward, Alicia and Jared both disappeared downstairs to work for the evening.

When they had been gone a while, Jensen rose from the couch, testing his legs before standing. His throat still ached, but the rest of him seemed all right, and he walked to the bathroom on steady feet.

It was quiet in the bathroom, save for the steady, endless skipping sound of the second hand on the clock. The black hands on the face of the clock still proclaimed the time was 11:47, but Jensen knew that wasn't true. He lifted the toilet seat and relieved himself, wondering what Xae had told Jared and Alicia about what had happened. She must have told them something, because they hadn't asked Jensen what Tenth was doing there in the first place. Jensen highly doubted she had told them the truth.

He put the seat back down and flushed the toilet, watching the water swirl down the bowl for a moment before he stepped right, toward the mirror.

His eyes were still the same shade of green without his violet contacts, same small scar on his chin, same high cheekbones and full lips. He ran a hand along his jaw, feeling the stubble there, and opened his mouth, pulling his chin back and forth before he closed it again.

He still looked exactly the same. He didn't _feel_ any different. Had he taken the secret from Tenth at all?

His reflection stared back at him, silent and unmoved.

 _~How about you, Valkyrie_ ?~ he asked inside his mind. ~ _You got anything to add to this?~_

His mind, too, remained silent. 

After that, did his best to sleep despite the thooming, ceaseless bass.

Once he fell asleep he slept soundly and without dreaming. He wasn't sure if Alicia or Jared checked back in on him or not.  
  


*    *    *

 

Jensen woke to the sharp rap of knuckles on his bedroom door, Jared calling out the name 'Jack'. Jensen pulled himself out of bed and slid into a pair of well-worn jeans before he went to the door and opened it.

  
Jared stood there, gorgeous and glowing in a too-tight, dark gray shirt with the words "this space for rent" stretched across his pecs in the white letters. His hair was hanging forward into his face and he ran a hand through it to brush it back as Jensen opened the door—and then he stopped halfway through the motion, his hazel eyes going wide.

Jensen realized then that he'd neglected to put on a shirt. He hadn't worked out much lately, but he still had enough muscle tone that he looked fit, and apparently pretty damned good if Jared's expression was anything to go by.

Jared recovered after a few seconds, finishing sweeping his hair back and focusing determinedly on Jensen's face. 

"How's my favorite tenant this morning?" Jared asked with a broad grin.

"I'm your _only_ tenant." Jensen laughed.

"Well then, you must be my favorite," Jared replied, still grinning, and Jensen couldn't help but grin back.

"How?" Jensen asked with a disbelieving shake of his head. "How can you act like all of this doesn't faze you?"

"I adapt quickly," Jared said, and then shrugged. "I don't know. It's weird, but it doesn't change anything."

"It changes _everything_ ," Jensen contradicted, astonished Jared could think otherwise.

"Not really. I mean," Jared made a wide gesture with both hands, "besides the magic doors and mythological creatures running around. But that's _exciting_." Jared's grin was infectious, and Jensen could feel himself returning it, despite the fact that he would have marked himself down in the 'definitely not excited' category. 

He shook his head, lock of cobalt hair falling forward over one eye, and saw Jared begin to reach out before aborting the movement.

"I should probably finish getting dressed before we start," Jensen said, smoothing his hair back behind one ear.

"I mean, if you wanna stay just like that," Jared said, smile playing about his lips as his eyes trailed down to Jensen's chest before snapping back up to meet Jensen's eyes, "I wouldn't complain."

He was teasing, flirting, being playful, and Jensen had known Jared long enough to know Jared didn't mean anything by it. Still, Jensen was sure Jared _wouldn't_ have complained about the scenery if Jensen had wanted to run around shirtless, and Jensen knew Jared would never purposely touch him without his consent. For just a moment, Jensen wished Jared would. For just a moment, Jensen let himself imagine it: Jared's massive hands running over his bare skin, mouth following behind, tracing out the lines and curves with fingers and lips and tongue, dipping into the hollow of his throat, down the center of his breastbone, trailing lower, down his stomach to—

Jensen cut the thought short and tried to recover his smile. "Clothes are… good," Jensen forced out the word, trying to convince himself it was true. "Less chance of accidentally seeing memories you don't want me to see."

"Some things are worth the risk." Jared's smile was wide and easy and warm as sunshine. "But if you insist." Jared turned away from the door then, adding, "I'll go make some coffee."

Jensen didn't stop himself from watching Jared walk away, or admiring the way his shoulder blades moved against the fabric of his shirt, or the way his jeans clung to his round, firm ass, biting down against his lower lip until Jared was out of sight.

Jensen went to his dresser, pulled a Pixies concert t-shirt from the drawer and tugged it over his head, and by the time he had his boots firmly in place, a fresh bandage on his neck and some eyeliner applied, the smell of coffee filled the air, drawing him toward the kitchen.

"Ready?" Jared asked after Jensen had made a cup with four sugars and some of the milk Jared had bought for tea what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Jensen followed Jared across the landing to Jared's apartment, noting the door was cracked, hairline fractures running all through it, but otherwise still intact. Inside, the apartment was furnished in the same retro style Jensen's was, although Jared's color scheme was brown, orange, and mustard yellow rather than the aqua, gold and orange of Jensen's apartment. Jared's couch was L-shaped, shorter and squatter, its cushions large and overstuffed, and it looked far more comfortable than Jensen's own straight, aqua blue, normally stuffed couch. In fact, everything about Jared's apartment was richer and warmer and it was filled with his personality, from the antique horror movie posters framed and hung on the walls to the bookshelves that lined practically every piece of wall that wasn't covered by furniture.

Set back in the wall directly across from the door they'd entered through was another door. There were bookshelves on either side of it, and the dark wood was so lovingly carved with the detailed curves of abstract designs that it doubled as art.

"Did you pick that one yourself?" Jensen asked. 

"I did." Jared paused in the middle of unlocking it, giving it a hard look, his expression falling. "It's a shame I'm gonna have to replace it." 

It was dark inside the unused landing, and dust flew out in visible clouds when Jared opened the door. Jared coughed into his hand, shooting Jensen a grin as he did. Once it cleared, Jared stepped inside and flipped a switch, igniting a single light bulb that flickered with yellow light. There were doors stacked together, leaned against the far left wall in two short rows, about ten in each, just as Jared had said. In the other direction, the stairwell descended, cobwebs lining the corners to where it disappeared beyond the light bulb's meager reach. 

"Will they work if they're not set into anything?" Jared sounded as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"I guess we'll find out," Jensen replied, eyeing the layers of dust on the doors.

With Jared's help, they maneuvered one of the doors from the stack over to an empty wall space, and leaned it there. Jensen stood before it, calculating, before he decided to concentrate on imagining it opening to one of the doors in the club below. It was painted an antique blue color and there were no faces of strange creatures carved into it, perfectly normal garden flowers etched around the edges. It didn't resonate with any sensation or sound, and Jensen frowned, concentrating harder.

After a few minutes he reached deeper inside himself, struggling to tap into a sense he didn't fully understand. It was warm in the landing, the buildings heat having risen and been trapped there without any other temperature control, and sweat began to bead on Jensen's skin. After another few minutes of wrestling ineffectually with his mind, he gritted his teeth and shoved outward with his mind, imagining his frustration as a fist against the wood.

The door seemed to rattle slightly, and then it slowly sputtered to life like machinery coming online. The flowers around the edges wiggled fractionally, stems doing an experimental dance, and then began to glow softly. Jensen could feel the slightest tingle as he touched the doorknob, but it was nothing like the power of the kelpie door, and it didn't whisper like the door at the tailor shop had done. He pulled it toward himself as if opening it, and then stood there, peering at what laid beyond in confusion. 

"What do you see?" Jared asked, his voice hushed.

Jensen shook his head slowly back and forth. "Nothing. It's just… dark."

Jared frowned at him sideways and then disappeared without another word back inside his apartment. A moment later he returned with a purple mini-Maglite and held it out to Jensen.

Jensen took it, careful not to touch Jared's skin—no matter how much he would have liked to—and turned it on, shining it through the doorway. The darkness beyond seemed to absorb most of the light, and Jensen still couldn't see anything. He ventured through the threshold finally, cautious, and when he passed through, nothing happened.

He shined the light around, stumped by what he saw.

He was in an empty room, the walls made of something black that he couldn't readily identify. It was so dark in the room that most of the light from his beam was being absorbed, and he had to step within inches of the walls to ascertain the exact amount of space inside, finally determining it was about ten by ten by ten. After nothing else happened, he relented and touched the walls. They weren't painted, solid to the touch, not spongy or flexible at all, and all he was sure of was that he was less sure than ever how any of this worked.

There was a feeling inside the room, too. Something like the faint buzz of static on a dead TV channel, prickly sensation just present enough to be registered.

"Maybe it's not connected to anywhere yet?" Jared suggested, once Jensen had described what he could see.

"Maybe." Jensen tilted his head in a shrug and exited the room. "Or maybe it's because they're not set into anything?"

Over the course of the next several hours, every single one of the remaining seventeen doors Jensen opened revealed the exact same thing. They even tried putting one flat on the floor so it had a seamless surface against it, and Jared had brought Jensen a ladder, which Jensen had lowered into the space and climbed down, finding again that it was ten by ten by ten.

By the time Jensen closed the last door, they were both tired, streaked with sweat and dust and dirt.

"Well, it was worth a shot." Jared sighed.

"Yeah." Exhausted, Jensen leaned back against the wall in front of a row of doors, tipping his head backward. "Maybe your grandfather made them for storage."

"Yeah. Except there's nothing in them." Jared rubbed at his cheek, completely missing the smudge of dirt along his cheekbone.

It wasn't fair, Jensen thought, that Jared was somehow even more gorgeous there in the dim landing light, smudged with dirt, covered in dust and a fine layer of sweat 

"You feeling okay?" Jared asked, squinting at him slightly. 

Jensen tried to rein his thoughts back in, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly. "Just tired. I'm not used to… using my _powers_ to do things."

Jared stepped closer to him across the landing, his brows drawing together with concern. "I'm going to check your wound."

Jensen rolled his eyes, but he nodded, steeling himself for Jared's touch.

Jared reached out, his fingers brushing the thin skin of Jensen's neck, and pulled the tape up. Jensen suppressed a shiver and forced himself to hold still, taking shallow breaths. Jared inspected Jensen's throat with his eyes for a moment before seeming satisfied and his fingertips grazed Jensen's skin again, light pressure of his fingertips as he smoothed the tape back down. 

His touch lingered there, against Jensen's pulse point. "Do you have to concentrate to keep from seeing people's memories every single time?"

There was a hush on the air, as if before a storm, and Jensen swallowed hard, his voice uneven as he replied. "If they're not Legacies."

"How does… how does that…" Jared trailed off, drawing his hand away. "Can you kiss people?"

Jared's eyes were shaded dark in the dimness, fringe of his lashes filled with dust that caught the light. Jared was so beautiful, so close to him, and electricity seemed to dance between them as if someone had thrown open a switch. Jensen could feel it keenly, brighter and sharper than any of the doors he had opened today, and he remembered all too easily the bolts that had crackled over Jared's skin when Jensen had seen his soul, the way Jared had burned, so gorgeous and pure and brilliant. Jensen had been overwhelmed then, but now it called to him, delightful and intoxicating, and he wanted to follow that call, let those hazel eyes draw him in and swallow him whole.

"I can." Jensen breathed the words out quietly. "It's not easy, but I can."

"And…" Jared went on, his voice husky and low as he edged an inch or two closer to Jensen, "can you do more than kiss?"

Jensen nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Feeling Jared so near, like lightning over his skin the desire was so strong, and he wanted to let his face tip forward, slot his mouth against Jared's and taste him.

"So you have?" Jared whispered, tantalizing and enthralling, impossibly near to Jensen, so close Jensen could feel the heat of Jared's breath skim his lips.

"With that much… contact," Jensen breathed back, "my power short circuits, so much information that it shuts off."

Jared glanced down at Jensen's mouth, his lashes fluttering. "So can I?" he asked, his voice a deep, low plea. "Kiss you?"

Jensen's heart was beating fast in his chest, blood rushing through him hot and effervescent, and all he wanted to do was grab Jared by the hair and yank him in, claim that gorgeous mouth with his own. He took a deep breath, about to nod again—

"Jared? Jack?"

Alicia's voice carried to them through Jared's apartment, Jensen's heart thudding to a momentary stop, and the moment burst like a soap bubble, Jared blinking and falling back a step. Jensen could taste bitter disappointment at the back of his throat, see it reflected clearly in Jared's expression. They stared at each other for a long moment in silence—so long Jensen expected Alicia to call for them again—and the fiery want Jensen could see in Jared's eyes made his nerves stretch and strain, every single one begging for the touch of Jared's hands, the sensation of his lips against Jensen's.

"To be continued," Jared whispered with true regret, and finally looked away from Jensen.

"Yeah." It was a single syllable, but it emerged from Jensen in a broken wreck of sound.

Jared rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, backed up another step and called out to Alicia, "We're out here."

"Any luck with the doors?" Alicia asked as she arrived, leaning against the open doorway.

"Sadly, no," Jared replied. 

Jensen's heart was still hammering in his chest, his mouth dry and sour with the loss of the moment. He didn't say anything, certain Alicia would notice his silence or the tension between him and Jared, but she seemed to have other things on her mind. Jensen pulled his eyes from Jared at last and looked over at Alicia.

She looked as beautiful as she ever did, gold eyeshadow dusting her eyelids and bringing out the bright hazel of her eyes, but her expression was somber, mouth painted dark-red and turned downward at the edges.

"Xae's downstairs," she said, after a moment. "She says you need to go, Jack. It's time."

For a few long seconds, Jensen was dumbfounded. He couldn't imagine why Xae was there or where she could possibly be expecting him to go. It seemed to take him far too long to arrive at what seemed like the most likely conclusion, but he finally got there.

"Tenth?" Jensen asked.

Alicia nodded and pushed away from the doorframe.

"Why did they ask for you? You hardly know them." Jared frowned, seeming confused.

Jensen honestly had no idea, but he suspected he knew what it had to do with. He opened his mouth to say he didn't know—

Alicia answered for him. "She said it was one of Tenth's final requests." She paused and then added, "And Jared, could give me a hand downstairs with something?"

"Sure." Jared looked at Jensen as she turned away, still seeming curious.

Jared didn't ask anything more though, and a moment later, he walked past Jensen into the apartment, leaving Jensen alone with the doors and the dust and the slowing beat of his heart.  
  


*    *    *

Xae opened one of the doors in the club and Jensen stepped through hesitantly, wondering if his stomach would rebel this time or not. They arrived on the other side in Xae's apartment without fanfare, a simple step across the threshold with no gray mist or buildings in sight, and Jensen wondered why he had seen it the first time.

He followed Xae through Chinatown beneath the overcast skies, the streets less populated in the middle of the day. Splashes of color stood out along the gray sidewalks, awnings and business names and neon signs, all the brighter beneath the slate colored sky. Xae herself stood out against the day, dressed in a dark-pink tank top and camo pants in shades of red and pink beneath her oxblood colored leather jacket. Jensen could have sworn they'd turned down a different alley yesterday, but Xae stopped at a door that looked exactly like the one they'd entered through before. This time Jensen was positive they had taken a different route through the building he suspected was a club.

"It's different every time," Jensen remarked, looking sideways at Xae.

"It's part of the protection of this place. The weave is twisted here, mangled long ago by dark magic. It created a sort of pocket universe that can't be reached any other way except by foot. We built our protection spells very carefully on top of it, and then built the illusion you see around you. When you look around, all of this seems normal, safe. But none of it truly exists. And if I weren't with you, you would have been dead the moment we walked through the door."

"That seems excessive."

Xae regarded him contemplatively for a moment, and then she said, "You never hide important things in safe places. You hide them in the most dangerous places. The places no one would ever dare look."

That seemed to make a lot of sense. Jensen nodded, looking away from her then. "What will you do… after?"

Xae didn't hesitate. "Hunt down the Twice-Born and kill her. Failing that, I'll die trying."

Jensen's eyes widened. "So you've given some thought to what you'll do."

She shot him a sidelong glance, one corner of her mouth pulling in a grin, dark eyes flashing. "I can't think of anything that would make me happier."

Jensen couldn't help smiling back. "You seem so serious most of the time, but sometimes I get the feeling there's a wild streak in you."

Her expression smoothed out, going neutral again. "You've met me at an interesting time in my life." 

Of course he had. Jensen wondered what she was like when her lover wasn't about to die. He was still wondering when Xae opened the door to Tenth's room. 

The candles were burning low, fat pools of wax gathered around their bases, warm glow reflected off the even warmer hues of material draped artfully across the walls. But despite all the warmth around them, Tenth's skin still looked sickly pale in the flickering light. Dark circles were etched beneath their eyes, and they were far thinner than they'd been yesterday, skin draped over bones like sticks.

"Jack," Tenth greeted him.

Jensen was too stunned by the rapid deterioration to know what to say. "You… Xae said it was time, but I didn't think it was this close."

"It's been moving faster since I transferred the spell to you."

Jensen had heard about things like that, like a dying grandmother who had held out through sheer force of will for a final Christmas with her family and then died the next day, as if that had been all she was waiting for. Perhaps Tenth had only been waiting to find a way to rid their mind of the spell before giving in.

"Come," Tenth said. "Sit. Let us speak."

"What else do you need to tell me?" Jensen asked and remained standing. He wasn't surprised exactly, but Tenth had told him so much in the single day they'd spent time together he found it hard to believe there was much more.

Tenth's chest rose with a deep breath and fell beneath the clothes hanging loose from their frail form. "You asked me yesterday… why the spell hadn't corrupted me… the truth is, it did corrupt me. I have been able to keep it at bay, but…" Tenth turned their face and coughed with a harsh, hacking sound that left Jensen alarmed. 

Xae intervened between them, going to one knee before Tenth and placing a tea cup in their hands. Fingers trembling, Tenth took it, lifting it to their lips and sipping. After a moment, they seemed better, and Xae took the cup back, setting it on the table before Tenth. She moved out of the way, but she didn't go far, watching Tenth intently.  

"My next incarnation…" Tenth went on, with an effort, "I can feel them rising within me. They will be different, because of the corrupting influence of the spell." Tenth's eyes flickered with brief flame, his gaze locked on Jensen's. "They will not be kind. They will be darker, crueler. They will not be your friend, Jack, you must know this. That is not directly my fault. But they will remember you only in the vaguest of terms and that _will_ be my fault. For good reason."

"So they won't know I have the spell," Jensen murmured, understanding.

"The temptation to use it… I fear it would be too great for them."

"You know that's not comforting, right?" Jensen demanded, cocking his head at Tenth. "Your next incarnation is gonna be evil because of this spell you put in _my_ head." 

"I know it's a burden. But you are doing the world a great service, Jack."

"Yeah." A rough bark of utterly humorless laughter escaped Jensen. "Here's hoping it doesn't turn me darkside. Or get anyone killed. Or end in a world population body count." 

"I _am_ sorry." Regret was etched into the deep lines of Tenth's face, sadness glimmering in the darkness of their eyes.

"Well as long as you're sorry," Jensen scoffed, rancorous.

He didn't have to look at Xae to know she was looking at him, and he could imagine the expression on her face all too easily. Jensen may not have cared much for Tenth, especially since Tenth had given him this potentially destructive memory, but he respected Xae, and Tenth was her dying lover. None of this could be easy, for either of them, he thought, and the venom in his veins seemed to vanish all at once, leaving him deflated and tired.

"Isn't this something you could have told me on the phone?" Jensen asked, exasperated. "Don't you have…" his eyes pulled briefly in the direction of Xae, "other people you'd rather spend time with?"

Tenth coughed into their hand, but only once this time, the sound drier and not as deep. "Phones are convenient, but they can be dangerous. There will be no record of the words we exchange in this room, beyond our memories."

"And are we done here?" Jensen asked, trying to keep his voice neutral and missing the mark by a mile.

"We are, indeed." Tenth seemed grave, but resigned. "Xae will lead you back out."

Jensen nodded once in understanding, but didn't otherwise move. He didn't like Tenth, and he certainly didn't owe them anything, but they _were_ dying, and Jensen would have felt like a complete asshole if he'd turned and walked out of there without saying anything.

"I'd say good luck in your next life, but…" Jensen shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. "So… goodbye."

Tenth's face creased with a slight smile. "Goodbye, Jack."

It felt oddly final, but then, death usually was.

Xae led him through the maze of corridors again, and Jensen wondered how she could find the way when it changed every time. Had the current circumstances been different, he would have asked. As it was, he remained silent, listening to the low hum around them as they walked, suspecting it was the spell power he was hearing. When they reached the back alley, Xae opened the door for him to pass through and stood aside, her chin high. Her eyes were filled with warring emotions as they met Jensen's, and he felt a pang of sympathy for her. 

"Will you be all right?" he asked, knowing the question was stupid even as he asked it.

She nodded, her eyes too shiny and wet, but no tears fell free, her lips and shoulders set in a straight, firm line.

A moment later the door closed and Jensen stood in the alleyway alone, the first few scattered drops of rain beginning to fall from the sky.

  


  
[](https://ibb.co/eP7xtd)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)


	7. Chapter 7

It was beginning to grow dark by the time he reached the Hall of Doors, and Jensen took the stairs to his apartment with slow, tired steps. He was still worn out from everything that had happened, not to mention that his wound probably wasn't helping anything. He checked it under the bathroom light, the ring of bruises lightened already to yellow-green. The scabbing had already healed, the cuts red and fading to pink at the edges, and his veins were their normal sea-green color beneath the skin. He tossed the bandage that had been over it into the trash, took out his contacts and shut off the bathroom light as he stepped into the hall. 

"Hello, sweetness," a female voice greeted him, just before a fist slammed between his eyes.

Jensen fell back against the bathroom door jamb, reeling and stunned. He brought up his arms to ward off another blow, blinking furiously in the dim light to get a view of his attacker.

She was tall and statuesque, legs encased in skin-tight PVC so black and shiny it looked like wet nail polish painted on her body, a bodice of matching material laced up the front of her chest. A shiny black coat so long it nearly brushed the floor was cut at severe angles to accentuate her small waist, and her hair was vibrant red, falling in long waves down her shoulders. Her lipstick was blood-red as she grinned at him, her eyes shaped like a cat's and just as green. 

"I'm Satterwhite," she said, cocking her head at him.

Jensen pushed off the doorjamb with a clumsy swing, and she ducked beneath it easily, popping back up to punch him in the face with a quick jab to the chin.

Jensen's eyes rolled up in his head and he felt consciousness threaten to leave him as stumbled back several steps. He collided with the wall, lucky that it caught him, and felt fire begin to ignite along his bones, oscillating with his consciousness. It descended on him like a comet and he grabbed hold of the tail, clinging to it as it pulled him back to the surface, world solidifying as wings sprang from his shoulder blades, unfurling with white-yellow flame. 

"You're the Valkyrie," she said as she advanced on him. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him close to her face, grinning down at him. "You don't look like much, but you pissed off the Twice-Born."

She flung her arm out, throwing Jensen down the hallway. His back hit the floor first, driving all the air from his lungs in a rush, and he slid several more feet, top of his head crashing into the iron-grated door that led to the tiny balcony of his apartment. He struck it with enough impact to send up a shower of sparks behind his eyes and blinked hard, trying to focus.

He could see her Legacy form in the Meridian: a walking skeleton, skin clinging to bone like rags, eye sockets flaring with green embers, the canines of her teeth elongated, at least an inch in length. Shriveled, black organs hung like dead balloons inside her skeleton.

In her flesh form, she stalked toward him on flat, patent leather boots, her gloved hands curled into fists at her sides. She stopped above him, straddling his body with her feet. She was extremely pale, clad almost completely in shiny black vinyl, and Jensen was struck by the absurdity of it all.

"Does the Matrix know you escaped?" Jensen asked.

"Oh, you're cheeky." She grinned and snapped her teeth together. "I like it."

She bent down to grab him and Jensen pushed up off the floor, slamming his forehead into hers. It hurt like hell and he was rewarded with another shower of sparks behind his eyes, but she staggered backward away from him, disoriented for a moment. Jensen launched to his feet, throwing her aside as he bolted down the hall.

The blanket over the door flew open as he reached it, revealing Alicia and Jared. 

"Jack, what the hell?" Alicia demanded. And then her eyes widened as she saw something behind Jensen.

Alicia reached out and pushed him aside with one hand, shoving Jared backward with the other, and then she shifted her balance forward, pushing off on the balls of her feet.

Alicia caught Satterwhite in mid-leap, arm clotheslining the other woman and taking her feet out from under her as she fell backward, brought up short by the motion. Satterwhite hit the floor of the apartment with a loud thud and Alicia was on her in an instant, straddling the other woman's upper body on her knees and drawing back her fist. Satterwhite brought up a knee into Alicia's back and Alicia huffed out a hard breath before she punched Satterwhite in the face.

Jared was there next to Jensen, fingers grasping at the material of Jensen's shirt and pulling him close.

"Are you all right?" Jared asked, and Jensen nodded.

Satterwhite tried to pull the same move Jensen had, bringing up her forehead to collide with Alicia's—but Alicia was quicker, getting a hand up between them and grabbing the woman's face. She shoved Satterwhite's head back down against the floor and the other woman arced like a serpent beneath her, grabbing Alicia by the outside of her thighs and throwing her forward, over Satterwhite's head. Alicia lashed out, catching the other woman with a vicious kick to the face as she landed, and then she spun over. She bent her arms back on either side of her head, planting her palms against the floor and pushed up to her feet in one smooth motion even as the other woman regained her feet.

Satterwhite backed a step away from Alicia, thumbing at the blood at the corner of her mouth. "You're strong," the woman noted, sounding delighted.

Alicia didn't reply as she stepped forward lightning quick, hitting the woman in the bridge of her nose with the flat of her palm.

Satterwhite's head went flying back, a stream of blood spinning up in a half circle above her face. Alicia didn't pause, bringing her leg up in a straight kick to the woman's chest that sent her crashing into the stools by the counter.

Jensen tugged Jared further inside the living room, trying to keep them both out of the fray.

"Shouldn't we do something?" Jared asked.

"I think she's got it," Jensen replied, feeling awestruck by the ease of Alicia's combat prowess. In the Meridian, Jensen could see a secondary silhouette inside Alicia, a softly glowing female form, lit from within as if by moonlight, energy streaking through it like stars. Her hair was free and black like the night, a glowing crown upon her head, and there was a bow strapped to her back like a sliver of the moon.

"I know your kind, child of Artemis," Satterwhite hissed, eyes narrowing on Alicia. "The Twice-Born didn't mention you."

Satterwhite pushed off the bar stools to her feet and Alicia hit her so hard Jensen could hear the woman's cheekbone crack. Satterwhite's head spun to the side, red hair slinging around, and Alicia grabbed the other woman by the lapel of her vinyl coat, hauling her close.

"Surprise," Alicia said and punched her again.

Blood flew from Satterwhite's nose and mouth as she went flying across the living room headfirst. Her head struck the window on the far side and glass shattered in a million diamond-like fragments as she sailed through it, falling and disappearing from view. 

As one, the three of them ran to the window, peering down through the jagged square. A mild breeze caught Jensen's hair, tousling it, and he could see people passing by on the sidewalk below.

There was no sign of Satterwhite.

Jensen looked sideways at Jared peering out next to him. "You okay?"

Jared pulled back inside the living room and Jensen followed suit, Alicia turning from the window last.

"I'm fine," Jared said.

"Alicia?" Jensen asked even though he was sure she was fine, too.

"Yeah. What the hell was that thing? It… it looked dead."

"I don't know." Jensen shook his head, glancing toward the window before looking back to Jared. "But we need more than new doors. As strong as she was, a normal door wouldn't have held her back if she wanted in. We need those warding spells, stat." 

"The Coalescence isn't going to loan us their books." Jared sighed. "We can keep looking for my grandfather's tomorrow." 

"I don't think she'll be back tonight," Alicia remarked.

Jensen just hoped nothing else showed up in the meantime.  
  


  
[](https://ibb.co/eLJqeJ)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

*    *    *  


After Jared and Alicia had gone back down to the club, Jensen shoved the tall dresser in front of his bedroom door, effectively barricading it. He stripped down and climbed into bed then, his eyelids heavy. The music downstairs hadn't started yet, and when it did, it didn't wake him.

In his mind, he dreamed, opening door after door and finding nothing behind them. He was searching for something, but he could no longer remember what, growing more and more frantic as he opened a door with another door behind it.

 _Jared_ , he thought. _I'm looking for Jared._ But he knew that wasn't quite right, either.

Behind him, one of the doors began to glow, rattling like thunder and rage, the inhuman howl of some terrible monster escaping around the warping edges. Terror coursed through Jensen like a living thing, and he turned, running through one of the open doors.

He stood in a place filled with gray, mist swirling about him, silhouettes of elegant buildings rising in the distance. In the distance, another stood open, and he sprinted for it, the insidious breath of some feral creature hot upon his back. He dove through the doorway, landing on a dark hardwood floor inside the Hall of Doors. People in red high heels and sensible black shoes and plain tennis shoes parted to walk around him like water flowing around a rock. Behind him, the beast still pursued, and he pushed to his feet, shouldering his way through the crowd. 

He grabbed the knob of another door and it roared to life with a bestial growl. He stumbled backward away from it as the wood bulged and stretched with the force of something huge. Water began to bead upon its surface, running like a waterfall down the wooden front, pool collecting at the bottom. It oozed toward him, oily and somehow alive, and he heard it ripple, shuddering out his name like a sigh.

His feet were frozen, bolted to the floor, and he heard everything in the syllables of his name: the inevitability of his capture, the futility of running, the certainty of his death. The hardwood was like molasses as he turned, sucking at his feet, his steps too slow to ever outrun the thing chasing him. The Hall of Doors stretched out eternally before him, cold saliva of the beast dripping against his neck. Desperately he reached for another door and fell through sideways into his own apartment.

There was something else waiting for him there.

The shape of the Valkyrie was smoky, indistinct within the lines of its form, slowly becoming more solid as Jensen watched. Her skin was gray, the color of volcanic ash, her eyes black as a starless night, hair a long dark cloud that billowed around her. She was taller than Jensen, maybe seven feet tall, and her wingspan was at least that wide, comprised of jagged black feathers that glimmered with iridescence like a crow's. She was darkly beautiful, wreathed in white flame that crackled wickedly over her skin, massive silver sword that hissed and dripped with fire held in one hand.

"This is not my home," she said, her lips the color of charcoal, and ash fell from them as she spoke.

Her form rippled, skin glowing golden, eyes white light, wings made of hundreds of sword blades that rang with light metallic tones as she flexed them. She was magnificent, otherworldly, and Jensen would have been scared of her if it hadn't been for the thing behind him.

"I don't have time for this," Jensen told her, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

"You run from what you seek," she told him, throwing off golden light as she faded from view.

His apartment twisted and wavered, and he became aware that Jared was sitting on his couch, an open book in his lap, seemingly unaware of Jensen's presence. There were strange symbols and sigils inked into the pages, and they seemed to drift over the surface. 

"Jared!" Jensen grabbed him by the arm, trying to pull him along. "We have to go."

"I knew they were here," Jared said, ignoring Jensen completely.

In the distance, the pounding of cloven hooves drew closer.

"Jared, we have to—" 

Jensen broke off as a scream erupted from the book in Jared's hands, the nose of some eldritch creature beginning to push forth from the pages. From beyond, the sounds of pursuit had ceased, and Jensen stood, riveted by horror as the monster began to emerge through the book instead, birthed through the doorway of the pages. 

"We can't run," Jared said, looking directly at Jensen with dead eyes. "The important things are never in safe places."

The beast snorted, snarling smoke into the air, and Jensen understood, bone to marrow, that this was it. It had found him, it had caught him, and it was going to devour him.

The book exploded as the creature passed through its confines, and Jensen threw out an arm—

He awoke, sitting bolt upright in bed, his body sheathed in sweat, limbs still shaking with fear.

 _What the hell?_ he wondered, rubbing a hand across his face. It had been a nightmare, but it had felt important somehow, as if there had been something there he'd been meant to understand. His mind was still half-caught within the embrace of sleep, making connections his waking consciousness couldn't quite track.

—You run from what you seek— 

—The important things are never in safe places— 

His brain turned over and clicked like the tumblers of a lock falling open.

 _You never hide important things in safe places. You hide them in the most dangerous places. The places no one would ever dare look._

It was still early morning he guessed, based on the slant of sunlight, not bothering to stop and check as he threw back the blanket on his doorway and headed straight for Jared's.

Jared opened the door, his hair tousled and his eyes blurred with sleep, clad in only a pair of hastily pulled on pajama bottoms hanging so low on his hips it was criminal. Jensen couldn't help but stare for a long moment at the superbly carved musculature of him, from his perfectly chiseled pecs to his flat stomach with just the hint of a six-pack, down to the line of hair that trailed away between the lines of his inner hip bones.

"I could've sent you a picture," Jared said and smirked. "Then I could still be in bed."

Jensen took a breath and forced his eyes up to Jared's face, which wasn't any less attractive or distracting, but at least he was used to that. 

"I know where the books are."

"My grandfather's books?" Jared's brows rose and Jensen could see the gleam of hope enter Jared's eyes. "Where?"

Jensen only hesitated a moment.

"Exactly how much do you know about kelpies?" Jensen asked.

 

*    *    *

 

"No, Jack." Alicia folded her arms across her chest and shook her head once. "No way we're fighting whatever's behind that door. You felt how strong it was. It's probably one of those _things_ , like the Twice-Born, that got lost in a rift."

Jensen knew she was probably right. He sighed and scrubbed a hand across his jaw. "Fine. You're right. We're probably not strong enough, just the two of us. But Xae can help. And if I can find Lex…"

"You want to bring Lex into this?" Jared seemed perplexed.

"I don't _want_ to," Jensen snapped, his exasperation beginning to mount. "But do you want the books? Do you want to be able to ward this place against things like Satterwhite or the Twice-Born, or anything else that might come busting out of these doors? Because the only people we know who have those spells, Jared, are the Coalescence members, and I'm not signing up for the fucking Legacy version of Big Brother." 

Jared snapped his mouth shut, expression going taut, his eyes filled with indecision. "I… I want to be able to protect the club, protect us. But Lex? He betrayed you twice already. We don't even know if he can fight. You have a sword, Xae has her weapons, Alicia's a badass who took judo. Lex seduces people. How is that going to help?"

"You took judo?" Jensen asked, looking at Alicia askance.

"For five years." She nodded.

Jensen whistled, raising his brows, impressed. 

"And I took Tae Kwon Do for ten years, can we get back to the point?" Jared's annoyance seemed to be growing. "Besides, there's nothing to suggest Valkyrie's have prophetic dreams in the first place. What makes you think—"

"It wasn't prophetic," Jensen said, certain of that much. "It was just my subconscious putting information together in a way my conscious mind couldn't. That, and a healthy dose of intuition."

Jensen fell silent as the door that led to the supply closet swung open and Xae stepped through it. She was wearing pale pink track pants and tennis shoes, and a light gray shirt with pink lettering that read, "queen" in small, undramatic letters underneath her oxblood red jacket. She looked mundane and utterly normal, like she had just walked in off the street instead of through a door halfway across town. She seemed reserved as she greeted them, her expression edging on solemn, and Jensen was nearly certain he knew why.

"Tenth?" Jensen asked.

Xae shook her head slightly in answer, her mouth tightening. "The one we knew is gone."

"I'm sorry," Jensen said, and meant it. He was sorry for her loss.

Xae nodded once in acknowledgment of his words. "Where is this creature you want to fight?" she asked.

Jensen pointed in the direction of the door with the kelpie head carved into it, and Xae walked over to it, tracing the knotwork on the door with one forefinger.

"The warding on this door is strong. Much stronger than the others," she remarked. She turned, looking at Jensen with curious eyes. "Do you know what's behind it?"

"Probably a kelpie." Jensen wasn't sure, but it seemed the most likely answer. "A really nasty, rift-crazy kelpie."

"And do you know what kills it?" Xae asked.

"Hopefully a Valkyrie sword," Alicia put in, sounding doubtful.

Jared spoke up then. "The mythology says it can be bridled and tamed with a golden bridle, but we don't have one of those handy. It probably wouldn't work on this one anyway, if it's been tainted by a rift."

"Creatures that fall into rifts almost never find their way back out. This one must have been pulled back out specifically by Jared's grandfather." Xae ran her hand over the wood, staring at the designs thoughtfully, and then shook her head. "That's one hell of a guard dog he put in there." She looked at it a moment longer and then withdrew her hand, turning to look at Jensen. "The space behind this door is probably a pocket dimension, so the door always opens to the same place. Whatever this creature has become, the second we open the door it'll be free. It will exist in all layers of reality just like the Twice-Born. We can't let it escape. We _must_ kill it."

Kill. He'd known they'd probably have to, but still, the word gave him pause. He'd never killed anything before. But it didn't matter. They didn't have a choice, and it was unlikely the kelpie was going to give them one.

"Which is why we need all the help we can get," Jensen said, returning to the subject they'd been discussing before Xae had entered. "If Lex can even help distract the thing, that's one more plus in our column."

"And what makes you think he _will_ help?" Jared demanded.

That was a fair question. Unfortunately, Jensen didn't have a ready answer.

"Because he owes me," Xae spoke up, as she pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket. "I've saved his ass more than once."

Jensen gave her his full attention. "The Coalescence helps people outside of it?"

"I'm helping _you_ **,** " she pointed out, not looking up from where she was beginning to type. "He's not Coalescence, but he's still a Legacy."

"You think he'll pay up?" Jensen was skeptical.

Without looking up at him, Xae nodded once and the expression on her face made Jensen believe her.

"Jack…" Jared's voice was gently pleading. "We don't even know if the books are really in there."

"They have to be. It's the only place that makes sense." 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jared asked as if he hadn't heard what Jensen had said.

Jensen nodded, the motion of his head more certain than he felt inside. "We need those books." He looked away from Jared then, not wanting Jared to see an ounce of doubt in him, his gaze landing on Xae. "Xae, do you know how to contact Lex?"

"He's on his way," Xae said, sliding her phone back into her jacket pocket.

All three of them stared at her in silence for a moment, Jared and Alicia looking as dumbfounded as Jensen felt.

Xae smirked. "No reason to waste time. The sooner he gets here, the sooner I get to kill something."

"How long will it take him to get here?" Jensen asked.

As if on cue, the door to the supply closet swung open again and Lex stepped through.

He was dressed in a tailored-fitted black coat that looked cavalry in style, with large silver buttons running down both sides in the front. It was slightly flared from the hip down, ending just at the knee, and he looked somehow old-fashioned and modernly trendy all at once. He pushed the door shut behind him with the heel of one polished leather boot and surveyed all the eyes trained on him.

"I knew when she texted me this address that this would be interesting," Lex said, looking around the room. His pale eyes fell on Jack and a smile graced his lips. "Do you know what we are, now, Jack Less?"

Lex was as handsome as ever, enigmatic and alluring even in the full overhead light of the club, and Jensen felt moved to take a step forward, be nearer to him. The connection they had shared before was still there; a strong, electrical undercurrent that pulled at Jensen, whispered of a kindred soul. It took Jensen a moment to realize what was happening, and he shook off the feeling, angry at himself for having felt it at all. He should have known better.

"I do," Jensen replied, stony. "It would have been a lot simpler if you'd just told me."

Lex laughed with a rich, throaty sound, as mocking as it was inviting. "I doubt that."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jensen demanded.

"I'm a demon," Lex said simply, as if Jensen should have known. "I'm not in the business of helping people." He paused. "Usually." His eyes ticked over each of their faces in turn. "Speaking of which, does anyone want to tell me why I'm here?" 

As one, everyone looked at Jensen, and well, he supposed it _was_ his idea. "There's a rift-crazy kelpie behind that door over there," he pointed, "and we need to open it." 

"A kelpie that fell into a rift and went insane… And you want to let it out?" Lex asked, his tone implying heavily that he thought Jensen might have lost his mind.

"Absolutely not," Jensen replied, level. "But it's what we're doing."

"Normally this is where I'd disappear," Lex said in a smooth tone, side-eyeing Xae. When she just shrugged, Lex pursed his lips and then released a sigh, thoughtful. "My shadow abilities may be useful."

"How do you have those abilities, anyway?" Jared asked. "All the stories I've read about Incubi, none of them mention power over the shadows."

Lex smirked, shooting Jared a wink. "That," he said, "would be telling."

Jared rolled his eyes away from the Incubus and Lex fairly grinned at Jared's annoyance.

"Alicia?" Jensen asked. "How are you feeling about this?"

"Like it's the stupidest idea to ever stupid," Alicia shot back instantly. "But we need those spells, and this is the best chance we've got, so…" She trailed off and tilted her head in a half-shrug.

"Okay, then let's review," Jensen began. "Jared, you stay far back, out of the fighting." Their gazes locked and Jensen held eye contact until Jared nodded, albeit reluctantly.

"I'll attack first, try to disable and weaken it," Xae spoke up.

"And I'll use my strength to try to keep its attention focused on me since I can take the most damage," Alicia said. "Beat on it with my fists while Jack stabs it."

"Didn't Jack say you have a bow?" Jared asked, seeming curious.

"I've never used a bow in my life," Alicia said with a raise of her brows. "I'm more hands on, anyway. But if things get too crazy I guess I can try."

"Lex." Jensen's gaze fell upon the other man's features. "Can you make a net with your shadows?"

"Shadow is too nebulous to be so defined," Lex replied. "But I can use the shadows to tug at it, keep it off balance."

"Good enough." Jensen nodded, looking at each of them in turn. Jared and Alicia looked concerned but determined, Xae's expression seemed eager, and Lex seemed unhappy but resigned. That was as good as they were going to get. Jensen took a breath, letting air fill his lungs, and then straightened his shoulders before he turned, walking and stopping in front of the door. 

_~Come Valkyrie_ ~ he called inside his mind, feeling silly and uncertain. He knew this was crazy: even if the Valkyrie answered—and he thought she would—they weren't very experienced yet at working together. Everything could go wrong. But he needed Jared and Alicia safe in this building. Hell, he needed himself safe.   

Fire flickered within him and he felt the whisper of the Valkyrie inside his mind.

 _-I hear you-_ the chorus of voices spoke.

Her awareness flooded through him, sharp and crystalline, his mind seeming to double for a moment before it rippled, merging with hers. Side-slipping into the Meridian, flames began to dance over his skin, wings sprouting upward and out, and he could feel the incinerating heat of full weight within his chest. He curled the fingers of his right hand into a loose claw, reaching for his chest. He passed the barrier of skin easily, digging beneath the bone of his rib cage, past the slippery fullness of his organs, so near the beating of his heart, up and up until his fingers closed around the hilt. He tugged and it came more easily this time, without pain; his body unresisting as he drew the sword forth from his chest, bits of blood and organ still clinging to the silver, flaming blade. 

He held it out before him like a beacon, like a shield, and in front of him, the door began to whine on its hinges, almost as if the thing behind it could _smell_ his power.

Jensen reached out and turned the knob, falling back ten quick paces.

It pushed its way into the world slowly, testing its freedom, nosing the door open one slow inch at a time.

It must have been human once, before it fell into the rift. But now the kelpie's face was misbegotten and twisted, monstrous. Its face was a mass of scaly plates that surrounded its bulbous, horse-like face, peeling apart, revealing jaundiced yellow eyes and teeth… so many teeth that its mouth shouldn't have been able to hold them all, each one silver, and sharp as a needle. It slavered, foam flecking in its scaled muzzle, rent flesh caught between shiny points. Lips shredded to ribbons, gums and teeth stained violent red, its mouth moved soundlessly, hungrily, callous yellow eyes looking out from around the door.

There was seaweed tangled in its pale, matted mane, and its entire body was covered in a sickly wet shine of sea water that seemed to ooze from its very pores. It began to growl, a terrible rolling sound that trembled on the air as it started to move, malformed hind legs pushing, muzzle cresting past the door, gouts of steam erupting from its nostrils. As it galloped toward Jensen he noted distantly that its flesh was torn open in places, meat and intestine hanging loose and trailing water instead of blood. 

Xae ran and then leaped forward feet first and fell onto her back, sliding on her back and shoulder across the floor underneath the monster. She moved like living grace, like a serpent as she struck out with her knife, slashing at the back of its left foreleg.

The kelpie snorted, lifting its foreleg almost as quickly as Xae's strike, its rear hoof landing Xae a blow to the forehead as she slid past. Alicia came for it next, yelling to get the beast's attention, but it was too fast, burst of speed like lightning as it plowed into Jensen and sent him falling to the floor. He held up his sword and the creature bared its teeth, batted the weapon aside with the muscle of its neck and fell upon him with the full weight of its upper body, forelegs bent in half against his chest. Savage teeth sought his throat, his muscles screaming as he held it by the jaw, pushing its face away from his. Its breath was fetid, reeking of death and its eyes were livid, devoid of sanity as they stayed fixed on Jensen.

He couldn't… breathe… The kelpie was going to suffocate him before it ate him. If it couldn't get him outright with its teeth, it would get him with its weight first.

Jensen pleaded for the Valkyrie inside him to give him more strength, another breath, anything, but his power was already at its limits, flame dancing over his skin flickering like candlelight, wings buzzing in and out of reality like so much static.

The others were trying to engage the monster, and he could hear the blows that landed on the kelpies flesh, see the shadows that tugged at its form. It barely flinched, its attention focused wholly on Jensen, determined to crush him and kill him before it did anything else. His grip on the creature's jaw was slackening, fingers tired, muscles giving up and shutting down as he struggled to breathe. Darkness beckoned like a lover Jensen was becoming far too familiar with, death waiting at the end of its embrace.

His body felt made of lead, the stars of his mind beginning to wink out one by one. And deep within him, something stirred.

The Valkyrie blanched and seemed to pale within his skin. Something primal was awakening, one malevolent eye opening, and Jensen could feel it begin to vibrate with a silent roar. Like a drowning man, Jensen reached for it, dug down deep within himself and _pulled._ The vibration grew louder, filling Jensen with the sound of electric clippers as it burst free like snapping a lock on a rusted door. Raw, unfamiliar power swept through him, flooding him with strength and need. He reached up on its instinct and grabbed the kelpie by its snarled mane, wrapping the long, coarse hair around his fist. The buzzing reversed its flow then, drew toward the center of him, inward instead of outward, and he didn't question, didn't have time to or he would have been dead.

Brine water began to drip from his fingers, rolling down his arm and the kelpie thrashed, trying to pull away. Jensen tightened his grip on its mane and held it close, watching the yellow eyes roll up in the thing's head. Static filled Jensen's brain like the sound of a dead tv screen, eating up every thought except survival. He was covered in water, sea and sweat, and there were strange sensations along his forearm, the itching of a dozen tiny needles against the palm of his hand, and still he pulled. 

The kelpie seemed to diminish, growing somehow smaller and duller. It tried to toss its head from Jensen's grasp, maw splitting open in a terrible keening sound, frantic to escape, its forelegs scrabbling against Jensen's chest. A hoof shot up, catching him beneath the chin, and Jensen ignored it as he reached for his sword, taking it up by the hilt and driving it into the creature's chest through the ribcage to where its heart would be, had it truly been a horse. Fire exploded from the wound, enveloping the monster, and still Jensen held it close, watching as flame licked over its body, devouring sea water and then skin.

The kelpie began to go limp against him, skin growing loose and desiccated as it seemed to dissolve, bones growing smaller and frailer until it crumbled into so much dust on top of him.

His sword fell, hitting his leg and sliding to the floor before it rippled once and vanished. In the ensuing silence, Alicia, Jared, and Lex all stood over him, staring at him as if they'd never seen anything like that before. Jensen supposed they probably hadn't.

Jensen lay still, relishing the feel of air entering his lungs for a long minute, nerves seeming to jitter inside his skin. It felt like his tongue had forgotten how to make words, was slow and clumsy in his mouth, but he managed to ask, "Jared. The books?"

Jared hurried out of Jensen's sight, and a moment later he called out, "It's… wow. There's a whole library in here."

Jensen's head felt like it was on fire on the inside, but he grunted with satisfaction. As he did so, he brought a hand to his face to wipe away the wetness there. His palm was still drenched, as if he'd just pulled it from the sea, and it made his face even wetter. Confused, he held his hand directly above his eye and watched as water welled from beneath his skin, sending a drop into his eyelashes.

There was seaweed growing out of his palm, the end of its frond waving in the light breeze of the open door.

"Your hand." Xae's voice sounded caught somewhere between horrified and amazed.

Jensen sat up and pushed slowly to his feet, staring at his hand, the buzzing whirlpool inside him beginning to recede. "What…" Jensen touched it gently with the tips of the fingers on his other hand. "What does that mean?"

"I knew you were special," Lex remarked, and even his pale eyes were wide with something like wonder. "But I never thought…"

"What are you talking about?" Jensen demanded, panic rising rapidly inside him as his fingers verified the reality of actual seaweed actually growing out of his actual fucking hand.

"You must have absorbed its power," Xae spoke the words slowly. "That must have been what weakened it enough for you to kill it. You… took its essence." 

No. That wasn't possible. That wasn't an ability he possessed. "I can only absorb memories."

"A _Valkyrie_ can only absorb memories," Lex said, correcting him.

"But I am…" Jensen trailed off, his breath catching in his lungs. Pale gray memory rose up, flashes of rain and shattered glass and terrified faces, and he shoved it back down. "No." The denial was tremulous and quiet.

"You are no Valkyrie, Jack Less. No Legacy alive can do what you just did."

The inside of his skull vibrated like it was filled with furious bees, and his heart lurched in his chest. Jensen closed his eyes and fire rose up behind them, devouring flame and blinding light. He blinked them open again, his hands shaking, clinging to a slender thread of sanity. _This_ , he thought, _focus on this_. Seawater welled from a single pore on the inside of his forearm and he watched it trail down the length to his wrist where it stilled and then began to swell before it dripped away. 

"If I'm not…" Words were still difficult, and he swallowed hard, his throat clicking dryly. "If I'm not a Valkyrie then what… what am I?"

Lex shook his head slowly back and forth. "You are something new."

Something new. The words hung there like smoke from a gun, feel of a bullet lodged deep in Jensen's chest. He didn't _like_ being a Valkyrie, he didn't _like_ being anything other than human; he'd never asked for any of this. But at least he'd known what he was, the kind of creature he could read about in books and wrap his mind around. He'd been the kind of creature who had a purpose; the kind of creature that wasn't a monster.

"No." His voice was vehement despite that it wavered, snapping through the room like a lash and echoing off the walls. "I know what I am. Tenth told me what I am."

Lightning struck in his memory, flashing through his mind, and he clapped his hands to his head, gritted his teeth and pushed it back.

"Jack…" Jared's voice came closer to him.

_This is not my home_

"Jack, are you all right?" Alicia asked, stepping toward him.

He'd spent the last decade repressing memories he didn't want to deal with, but he was weak and his defenses were low after fighting the kelpie, and this one _wanted_ loose. Lightning struck again in memory, striking hard and splitting open, driving him to his knees.

"No!" he shouted, gripping his hair in his hands.

Jared was on his knees behind Jensen in an instant, arms locking around Jensen's chest and holding him close. "Hey, hey. Jack. It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

Lightning flashed, ripping through the landscape of his mind, electricity drilling easily through his defenses, and memory like water poured in through the hole. It filled him like he was drowning in it, until his lungs would have burst and his heart would have stopped, and still it came. Relentless, it tore at him, revealing fragments of images that made him retreat, diving deep within to protect himself. When it stood at last, revealed fully before him, he was too tired to resist, numb to the core.

 _It is time_ , said a voice inside him that was neither his nor the Valkyrie's.

There was power in that voice, almost commanding, and Jensen felt compelled to obey. It _was_ time, wasn't it? Jensen's fingers uncurled from the roots of his hair, slowly relaxing and falling to his sides, and he sagged back against Jared's chest, letting Jared support his weight.

_Inside the hole in his mind, rain poured down; a sleek black ribbon of road winding out beneath a slate gray sky. Windshield wipers slapped back and forth, hollow, repetitive; swish-swipe like the rhythm of a clock_

_tick-tock_

"Jack?" Jared's voice was tentative.

_rain sluiced down in gouts, drumming on the roof louder than the thunder_

"My real name is Jensen," he whispered. "Jensen Ackles."

_tick-tock_

"When it started… it was a normal day. It was raining… and we were driving on a mountain road."

 _slow slide, the pull of inertia too fast and too hard_

"The brakes went out, and we crashed through the railing off the side."

_rushing silence, weightlessness, and then gravity, smashing screeching grinding halt_

"My mother died immediately. My father and I were crushed together in the cab of the car."

_mom dad mom dad mom dad mom mom mom mom_

"The stick shift… went through my shoulder. I couldn't move. I watched my dad die, slowly, in terrible pain and confusion. And then I passed out."

_silence, yawning blackness and peace_

"When I came to… I was nowhere near the crash site." Jensen licked his lips and found them dry as paper, eyes staring at a fixed point in the distance and seeing nothing at all. "The news said my parents were dead and I was, too."

The room was dead silent except for the sound of Jensen's own breathing, everyone still as statues. Jensen scarcely noticed.

"My parents were dead… the world thought I was dead… I didn't know what to do. That was when I started running. That was when I started seeing people's memories. That was when I started having blackouts. I saw those people with death auras and I thought… I thought I was killing them."

Jared's arms tightened around Jensen's chest momentarily, but no one said a word, gathered in a semi-circle in front of the two of them kneeling on the floor.

"I… didn't understand what had happened to me. I didn't remember." Jensen huffed out a sad laugh. "Now I know why. I didn't _want_ to remember."

Tears welled in his eyes and he blinked them back. "The Valkyrie must have come for my mother's soul. My mother was a soldier in Iraq. And when I saw it… I was so scared. I couldn't move but I knew I had to stop it from touching her, and in my panic I… I pulled. Just like I did with the kelpie. I was dying, I had just watched my parents die and I didn't know what I was doing…" 

"You accidentally absorbed it." Jared's voice was quiet, hushed.

Jensen let his chin fall against his chest and nodded weakly. "I exploded with fire. I couldn't control it."

"You manifested in the Prime," Xae remarked, seeming to marvel. "Like the seaweed is now."

"The remains they found in the crash weren't mine: they were the Valkyrie's. Everything burned so hot… there was barely anything left. The police assumed it was me." Jensen's mouth trembled as the realization filled him. "But I killed them. I killed that person."

"Valkyrie cannot be killed by fire," Xae said, doubtful.

"They were no longer Valkyrie," Lex commented. "Jensen had taken the Valkyrie from within them."

Alicia knelt down before Jensen, placing a hand on his knee as she met his eyes. "It was an accident."

Jensen looked at her, and understood her words, but he didn't comprehend them, not truly. Shell-shocked and shattered and there could be no forgiveness for what he'd done, for the innocent life he'd taken. He was numb at that moment, but his emotions would return soon enough, and when they did…

"As abilities go, it's in an incredibly powerful one," Lex spoke up. "Imagine being able to take whatever power you wanted or needed from—"

Alicia threw him a look sharp and deadly as a dagger and for a wonder, he fell silent.

Jensen focused on Lex then, feeling the first cinders of emotion begin to spark to life. "That ability _killed_ someone. That ability _ruined my life_ . I was so fucked up it split me into two different people." Jensen huffed out an angry, humorless laugh. "And apparently it doesn't stop there. I was dying, I was panicking. Again. And now I might have _three_ people in my head, including the _psychotic kelpie_."

Lex's ever present smirk dissolved, and there was no trace of amusement on his face as he said, "Yes. I see how that could be an issue." No one else spoke, and Lex went on, "The night we kissed… I was draining your life energy, and you must have tried to drain my power to protect yourself. The backlash between our similar abilities must have been what threw me backward and made me bleed." He paused, seeming thoughtful. "I was luckier than I knew," he said softly.

"This shouldn't be possible." Xae's tone was agitated. "You shouldn't be able to permanently pull the power out of a Legacy. You're sure this is what happened?" Xae asked, and it seemed somehow abrupt, an urgency to the words that seemed to belong outside the moment.

Jensen blinked, trying to focus on the question. "I… I'm sure. I remember now… draining them… burning them. Killing them. "

Jared's arms squeezed him once, careful to keep from touching Jensen skin to skin. "You didn't do it on purpose Ja—Jensen." Jared stumbled awkwardly over his real name and Jensen felt a pang of regret. He hadn't realized how much he'd wanted to hear Jared say it—to know Jared knew his real name—but to have him find out like this…

"This is a problem." Xae restlessly paced a few paces away from Jensen and then spun, walking back to where she'd been standing before. Her dark eyes were fixed on the floor, her fingers closing slowly into fists and then releasing. "The Coalescence can't know about this."

"Why? What would they do?" Jared asked.

"First, manifesting in the Prime is forbidden by the Coalescence, because of the damage it can to do the weave. Second, there aren't millions of us in the world, much less billions. We only kill our own kind if there's _no other choice_. If they found out Jack—Jensen—killed one of our own who didn't deserve it, even accidentally, there would be consequences. And that's if they didn't lock him up in a lab and invade him with magic probes all day."

"How would they find out?" Alicia asked. "We're not part of the Coalescence. We've got no loyalty to them." Alicia's eyes traveled the length of Xae's body and then slowly back up to meet the other woman's eyes. Alicia shifted her jaw to the side, thoughtful. "But you do."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

As one, every eye in the room turned to Lex. 

Lex folded his arms across his chest and rolled his shoulders back and forth as he straightened his spine. His expression was imperious as he met their combined gazes. "As if the Coalescence would listen to _me_ ," he said, derisive. "I make far too much sense for them to ever take me seriously."

He looked at Jensen then. "I have nothing to gain from exposing you anyway," he added, shrugging.

"So if you did have something to gain, you would?" Jared demanded.

Lex's upper lip curled across his teeth in something resembling a smile, hand spinning in a circular motion at the end of his wrist before he pointed at himself. "Evil," he declared, as if they might have forgotten. "You knew that when you called me here. Well," he allowed, with a tilt of his head, "Xae knew."

Xae ignored Lex and took a few more short steps before she paused, looking back down at Jensen over her shoulder. "There is more than that, I'm afraid. You can effectively kill any one of us with your bare hands. Without even knowing our particular weaknesses. That alone would terrify most of the Coalescence. But if you absorbed the wrong Legacy and went rogue? There would be no one who could stop you."

Jensen looked at her and knew she was thinking of the secret Tenth had walled up inside his mind. He'd tried to tell them he was a bad choice, but even he couldn't have predicted this.

"So we don't tell anyone, like you said." Alicia sounded practical, but Jensen could hear the undercurrent of a threat in her voice.

"And if he absorbs the wrong Legacy and goes rogue?" Lex asked, his tone reasonable.

The look Alicia tossed his way could have cut him in half where he stood. "Burn that bridge when we get to it."

"Jensen." Xae's voice was soft as she turned to face him fully again. "Your hand. The seaweed, it's dying."

Jensen looked down to see that it was true. The seaweed growing from his palm had wilted, turning a sickly deep green-brown that laid inert across his life line.

"That's good. That means you probably didn't take too much from it, right?" Jared asked.

Jensen nodded, cautiously agreeing with the assessment. He felt… more like himself again, strange energy gone, memories vomited out. He extricated himself from Jared's embrace gently, wanting more than anything to stay, but Jared had already given him enough. Slowly, Jensen got to his feet, hand still held away from his body.

"Then it's not always permanent," Alicia observed, rising to her feet as well.

Jensen looked down at his hand, uncertain. "I… I guess." 

"If the transfer can be temporary, then this changes things." Xae seemed contemplative for a moment and then her voice rose a notch with excitement. "If you can drain power… That means you can kill her."

"Who? You mean the Twice-Born?" Jared asked as if she had lost her mind.

Xae appeared unaffected by his tone. "He's the only one who might be able to weaken her enough. He saw what I did to her. She should have been the Twice- _Dead_ and all she did was run away."

"Did you miss the discussion we just had about how dangerous that is?" Jared demanded, seeming offended and astonished as he rose to his feet.

Jensen watched the seaweed crumble into brown flakes and disintegrate, dust drifting from his hand, and then he turned and walked from the room, leaving them all to argue amongst themselves.  



	8. Chapter 8

Jensen washed his hands four times, thumbnail scraping at the spot where seaweed had sprouted. It was pink from where he'd irritated the skin, but other than that, it seemed perfectly normal, no trace that anything except human skin had ever been there.

He turned the faucet to cold water and cupped his hands beneath it, gathering a small pool there before he bent, splashing it over his face. His eyes closed, he let his hands linger against his skin, shutting out the light.

_Maybe we are the monsters_

He understood so many things now. Why he was a male Valkyrie, the first anyone had ever seen. Why that power had always seemed so separate from him. He was a leech, a thief, a creature with no ability of his own except to steal others. He was something that should never have existed, something that wasn't supposed to exist at all. He had no purpose, no name; an empty shell.

He gripped the sides of the bathroom counter with both hands, staring into the green of his own eyes in the mirror, and fire ignited along his fingers, porcelain beginning to crackle against his palms. The only good thing about finding out he was a Valkyrie had been the knowledge that he hadn't killed anyone. But he had killed someone after all.

 _~Who were you?~_ he asked inside his mind.

 _-Her name was Nikki Fortune-_ the Valkyrie within him said as it rustled and stirred. _-But I am not her.-_

_~Then who are you?~_

_-I am the power you took from her. I am not possessed of a soul, only purpose. I have no name, save that of Valkyrie.-_

Nikki Fortune. Jensen had only the vaguest memory of her, dark-eyed and dark-skinned, wreathed in golden flame. Had she known what she was? Had she had a family? Children? How many other people had Jensen stolen from when he'd killed her?

He grit his teeth together, squinching his eyes shut. He was a murderer. Deadly and unstable, a danger to everyone around him, and worse than all of that—crazier than all of that—he had the secret to ending the universe walled up inside his mind. The counter cracked beneath his grasp as he realized the world would literally be a better, safer place if he died.

He couldn't stay here. He couldn't risk endangering Jared and Alicia, or even Xae. He had to get out, go somewhere where he could think, figure out what to do.

A knock sounded from the doorframe of his apartment, and he released the counter, staring down at the spider web fine cracks in the porcelain. The knock sounded again, and Jensen could tell by the rhythm of it—one- _beat_ -two-three- _halfbeat_ -four—that it was Jared. The fire dancing over his hands winked out and he stood there for a long moment, paralyzed by indecision. He couldn't face anyone after what had just happened, after everything he'd just admitted. He couldn't stand looking anyone in the eye, couldn't stand to have anyone look at him; especially not Jared. 

Jared, who had been so kind. Jared who was thoughtful, funny and sweet, and had probably never hurt anyone in his entire life. What must Jared have thought of Jensen after that?

"Go away," he shouted, walking purposefully from the bathroom to the bedroom. He opened the closet, pulled down several large travel bags from the top shelf and threw them on the bed, moving to the dresser without pause. His hands closed around a row of rolled up t-shirts and he dragged them from the drawer without regard for neatness, turning and shoving them inside one of the bags.

"What are you…" Jared trailed off as he hesitated outside the bedroom door. "What are you doing?"

"I told you to leave," Jensen snapped.

"It looks like you're already doing that," Jared remarked, sarcastic.

Jensen turned back toward the dresser and grabbed another handful of shirts without even looking at Jared.

"You don't have to go."

Jared obviously wasn't going to leave or leave him alone, and Jensen could feel anxiety clench deep in his chest, feel himself on the verge of breaking down, and he couldn't allow that to happen.

"Please go," Jensen whispered, as he went still, shirts still held in his hands.

Jared's voice was pitched low and filled with warmth. "I know this is scary, and crazy, but if you stay, you'll have us to help you. You're stronger with us than without us. And now we have a whole library to help us figure out what you are, and how to control your abilities." Jared paused. "I'm not a big fan of insulting people, but seriously, it would be _stupid_ for you to leave now."

Jensen was such a mess he could barely think, but there was logic in Jared's words.

"And," Jared added, "you're crazy if you think I'm going to leave you alone right now."

Even after everything, Jared refused to leave him. Jensen closed his eyes, reaching deep for strength he didn't have. He slung the rolled up shirts across the bed and spun on Jared, throwing his arms out from his sides. "I'm a killer. I'm dangerous, Jared. What part of that didn't you get?"

"In case you hadn't noticed…" Jared took a step inside the bedroom, meeting Jensen's gaze without hesitation, "I'm not scared of you. And neither is Alicia, or Xae."

"Well you _should_ be," Jensen snapped, mystified as he let his hands fall back to his sides. " _I'm_ scared of me."

Jared walked even closer, and Jensen averted his eyes, started to turn away.

"You could never scare me." Jared reached out, his hand settling on Jensen's shoulder. It was a slight weight, gentle warmth pressed against the material of his shirt, and Jensen felt locked in place by it, unable to move. He stared at Jared's chest, still unable to meet Jared's eyes.

"How?" Jensen asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How can you even stand to look at me right now?"

"Don't you know?" Jared asked, his own voice quiet. His hand moved from Jensen's shoulder, fingers touching the bare skin just beneath Jensen's chin, tilting Jensen's face upward to look at him. Jensen's eyes met Jared's hazel ones and saw nothing but warmth there, and then, behind his eyes, he could see himself— 

_// He's sitting cross-legged on the tiny balcony outside his apartment, notebook in his lap, pen in his fingers flowing across paper. Late afternoon sunlight pours down into the alley, lighting up his blue hair with brilliance, skin golden and glowing, bandage on his forehead, a small smile playing about his lips as he writes, and he is more beautiful than he has ever looked to himself. A light breeze ruffles his hair and he smoothes it back behind one ear with a practiced, adorable gesture that makes Jared's fingers itch. Jared wonders what he's writing about, if he pours out all those secrets he keeps onto ink and paper, if he'll ever decide to share any of them, and knows it doesn't matter if he never does; it wouldn't change anything //_

"Jared." Jensen gasped out Jared's name and captured his wrist, throwing it gently aside and letting go, breaking skin contact.

"I was in the alley," Jared said quietly, still not looking away from Jensen. "I was taking trash from the club out to the dumpster, and I looked up and I saw you sitting there."

It took Jensen a moment to catch his breath. "You… you meant for me to see that?"

A faint smile touched Jared's mouth, and he pressed his hand against Jensen's cheek, thumb gliding out and over Jensen's lower lip.

_// Gorgeous, brave, blue-haired boy, and Jared thinks he looks right sitting there, looks comfortable. He could belong here, with Jared and Alicia; he already fits like he's always been here, and Jared can't credit what it is that makes him feel that way, he just knows he does. That his life will be emptier when Jack finally leaves //_

Jared's emotion rose inside him and Jensen felt it as if it were his own. The wistful wanting, the longing sadness, the deep warmth of affection. The way his heart beat a little faster at just seeing Jensen. He'd thought Jared's flirting was the kind Jared would have done with anyone, that the almost kiss in the door storage room was simple desire and attraction between them. This was both of those things and more than either one.

"That day, that moment… that was when I knew," Jared said, raising his other hand to touch Jensen's other cheek. "I didn't want to lose you. That I'd do anything to keep you here."

Jensen blinked, trying to sort through the tangle of his feelings with Jared's, staring into those hazel eyes with surprise.

"That was when I knew I was screwed," Jared whispered, rueful smile curving his lips. 

"Jared," Jensen breathed, and he already knew, he could _feel_ it—

"That was when I knew I was in love with you."

Breathless span of a heartbeat, words hanging in the air between them, and then Jensen reached out, took Jared's face between his hands and dragged him in. Their lips met with a clash, and then melted in a slow, sultry slide, Jensen tipping up his face and opening his mouth, tongue slipping inside Jared, tangling with Jared's own. There was nothing tentative in Jared as his tongue swirled around Jensen's, suckling lightly, everything between them heat and need and breath, and Jensen got his hands on Jared's hips, holding tight as he drove up into Jared's mouth, kissing him with his whole body. 

"Jack," Jared breathed out, running his fingers through Jensen's hair.

"Jensen." Jensen nipped at Jared's lower lip, painting the word across his mouth. "I'm Jensen."

"Jensen," Jared whispered back, and Jensen felt the syllables of his name hit him with a rushing thrill. Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen's shoulders and Jensen kissed him until he felt dizzy with it.

Memories rose up, bubbling around the edges, and Jensen pushed them aside along with his bags, which felt to the floor with light thuds. He kissed Jared harder, hands edging him backward, down against the bed, heart pounding in his chest, musky scent of Jared filling him, and he wanted this so badly he could hardly stand to wait. He needed more of Jared against him, needed him naked and writhing underneath Jensen, lean, muscular body spread out against the bed, so much skin touching that Jensen wouldn't see any more of Jared's memories.

Jensen slid his hands up beneath the edge of Jared's t-shirt, fingers molding to the hard curves of his abs, skimming up along Jared's sides, moaning into Jared's mouth at the feel of all that muscle, heat and power pinned beneath Jensen.

Jared's hands closed over his, halting Jensen from peeling Jared's shirt up over his head, and Jared pulled back from the kiss. Jared's cheeks were flushed and his eyes were warm, darkened with want, his fingertips trembling slightly as he touched Jensen's cheek. 

"Jensen," Jared said in a whisper. "As much as I want this… you're pretty upset right now."

"You never made any impulsive decisions when you were upset?" Jensen asked.

"Of course," Jared answered, quiet. "I've _been_ a lot of people's impulsive decision." Jared looked back and forth between Jensen's eyes. "But I don't want to be yours, Jensen."

"It…" The words caught in Jensen's throat, but he forced them out. "It means more to me than that." That was the truth. He wasn't sure if he was in love with Jared—wasn't sure how he could be sure when he'd never been in love with anyone before—but he knew this was more than just physical desire. 

Still, there was a lot to be said for physical desire.

"I want you, Jared," Jensen whispered, staring into Jared's eyes, heat flooding his veins. "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you. I didn't need this to make me want you," Jensen growled, grinding his hips against Jared's.

Hard, hot line of sweet friction, and Jared's eyelids fluttered at the feel of Jensen's cock rubbing up against his through their clothes, fingers tightening on Jensen's shoulders. Jared's chest swelled against Jensen's with a deep breath, and it seemed to take a monumental effort for Jared to ask, "You're sure this is okay?"

Jensen wasn't sure, about so many things, least of all himself. But he was sure he was tired of not living his life; tired of always being afraid. Tired of being alone and untouched. Maybe it was selfish for him to want Jared now that he knew what he truly was, but he didn't care, and neither did Jared. He surged down to kiss Jared, arms twining around his neck, drawing him closer.

"It's okay," Jensen breathed back. "So much more than okay."

He slid down Jared's body, tongue dipping into the depression of his navel, feeling Jared hitch and twist beneath him, trailing slowly up the center of his stomach muscles, hands curling in the hem of Jared's thin shirt. Licking and nipping his way up to Jared's pecs, tongue swirling out over one nipple as he tugged Jared's shirt upward, Jared lifting his upper body halfway off the bed. Jensen sat up and ripped Jared's shirt over his head, Jared reaching for Jensen's shirt and doing the same, their mouths meeting in a hot tangle as their clothing fell away. Bare chest to bare chest, Jared's arms wrapped around him, crushing him close, and Jensen ground downward with his hips, sliding slow along the hard length of Jared's cock through their jeans, all of it too much and not enough at once.

He broke the kiss and licked across Jared's lower lip, tongue trailing over hot skin and perfect musculature, Jared hissing and urging him on as Jensen's fingers worked at the button of Jared's jeans. He made short work of it and the zipper, tugging the denim downward with Jared's underwear, shoes and socks torn off in a rush before pulling his pants free. Jensen straddled Jared's calves, resting on his knees, and took in the sight before him.

Jared laid on the bed fully naked, broad shoulders and wide chest tapering down to his narrow waist and hips, muscles caressed by soft light and shadow thrown by the lamplight. Lazy like a lion and ripe with want, he was gorgeous, hair a mess and dark pink lips parted as he stared at Jensen with hooded eyes above miles and miles of tanned, smooth skin. His pecs were perfectly formed, chiseled as if carved, nipples pert, his abs defined just enough, his huge, hard cock rising up from his belly, at least eight inches long and four inches around, and Jensen wanted to devour him, couldn't decide what he wanted to put his hands and mouth on first.

Jared reached out, tugging at the button on Jensen's jeans and Jensen reached down to help him, realizing belatedly that unlacing his boots would take precious time he didn't want to waste. He turned away from the vision of Jared and sat on the edge of the bed, making quick work of the laces and yanking his boots off before they were entirely loose enough, rising to his feet and pulling his pants off. Finally completely naked, he turned back toward the bed, giving Jared a full view of his body. Lust-glazed hazel eyes traced out his form, so filled with heat Jensen could nearly feel them on his skin, shivers working through his nerves as Jared's gaze passed over them.

He went to his knees then, sliding his upper body between Jared's legs, hands skimming Jared's muscular thighs, bent his neck and unfurled his tongue against the hard, hot length of Jared's cock. Jared hissed, hips bucking against Jensen's mouth, and Jensen reached up, placed the flat of one palm against Jared's belly to hold him down, other hand closing in a fist around the base of Jared's dick. He licked slow up the length, tongue swirling over the center vein, twisting his neck to one side then the other as he dragged his tongue underneath the crown and then back across to the slit, taste of pre-come salty against the tip.

Jared's hands closed in his hair, fingers curling in the long strands and tugging Jensen down. "Jensen, please," he begged, breathless, muscles flexing beneath Jensen's palm as he tried desperately to move his hips.

Jensen smirked, then flicked the tip of his tongue against the wet slit of Jared's cock before he closed his lips around the head. He sucked downward, taking the crown just inside his mouth, tongue flickering against the bundle of nerves on the underside as he teased, feeling Jared tremble against him, fingers tightening into fists in the length of his hair. He took a breath and then exhaled before he drove downward with his mouth, sucking hard and fast until his lips brushed against his hand where he held Jared's cock, rolling his fingers and squeezing the base before he dragged back up the length, flat of his tongue slick against the center vein. He rolled his head back and forth as he sucked on the crown like a lollipop, tonguing at Jared's leaking slit before thrusting down the length again.

Jared jolted against the bed, crying out Jensen's name, hands twisting uselessly in Jensen's hair, and Jensen took him hard and fast, sucking ruthlessly from tip to his hand again and again while he squeezed Jared's dick like he was milking it, driving Jared right to the edge, body stiffening, cock going rock hard, hands trying to pull Jensen's head away. Jensen hollowed his cheeks and took one last, long pull up the length, mouth pulling free with a pop before he ducked lower, licking across Jared's balls as he released his grip on Jared's dick. His hands slid up under Jared's thighs, lifting and parting them, tongue trailing lower, down the crease of him. He circled Jared's hot opening a few times, tip teasing just beyond the rim until he felt Jared relax, and then he delved inside, curling his tongue to a point as he thrust past the barrier.

Jared froze, locking down around him for a moment, and then _melted_ , crying out as he shoved his hips into Jensen's mouth, Jensen's hand unable to hold him still. He hummed, feeling Jared jitter with the vibration, and fucked Jared with light thrusts of his tongue, pushing past the tight ring of muscle to where Jared was searing hot inside. Slick curl and twist of hot muscle inside Jared's body, and Jensen rimmed him until he went limp against the bed, all attempts at language devolved into moans and tiny shudders of his hips.

Jensen tugged his tongue free, licking up the inside of Jared's thigh, giving one last quick flick of his tongue across the head of Jared's dick before he moved, reaching for the nightstand. Jensen hadn't 'entertained' since he'd been here, but he always came prepared just in case. He ripped open the condom package, shivering at the sensation of his own hand as he rolled it down the curve, hissing out a breath as he slicked it with lube. 

Jared was beautiful against the bed, rimmed into wanton bliss, gorgeous body sheathed and shining with sweat. He curled his fingers in the long strands of Jensen's hair, pulling Jensen down into the hot crush of a kiss. Sweet urgency, Jared's hands cupping his face, and it had been a long time since Jensen had taken his time with someone like this; since he'd _wanted_ to give someone this much pleasure. His mouth was wet and messy against Jared's, cock held in his hand as he lined up, pushing Jared's right thigh upward with the other. Crown pressed against the heat of Jared's opening, and he bit down against Jared's lower lip, seizing and holding as he wriggled his hips, pushing just past the barrier.

Jared's fingers closed tight around Jensen's waist, and then he _moved_ , rolling them over across the bed, almost to the edge, mouth fused to Jensen's with molten heat for an instant before he pulled away and threw his head back, spine arching, coiling and then slowly unfolding down the length of Jensen's dick, body sinking to the base. Jared's hands pressed against Jensen's chest then drifted away, caressing his own chest, fingers sliding around his neck and up into his hair, fingers clenching at the roots as he began to move. Jared rocked his hips side to side, rotating them in a figure eight before he lifted upward, slick, velvet heat squeezing Jensen's cock to the top. So crazy, unbelievably hot, Jared riding Jensen's dick, lower lip caught between his teeth as he moved, eyes locked on Jensen's.

The heat between their locked gazes was scorching, Jared's gorgeous body riding Jensen like he was born to do it, rippling musculature of his belly as he moved, the glazed lust in his eyes, the dark pink of his lips, lower one caught between perfect white teeth, and Jensen could barely stand looking at him, could barely stand to watch it was so goddamned hot. Thumbs lodged in the trenches of Jared's hips, he thrust upward, twisting his hips, rewarded by the helpless moan that escaped Jared, Jared's hands falling from his hair and eyes fluttering closed with pleasure. Jensen reached up, yanked him down, took Jared's lower lip between his own teeth and bit down hard, body arching against the bed as he drove into Jared again, meeting his thrust.

Jensen didn't know what being in love was, but he suspected it was something like this: the arch and curve of Jared's throat as he gasped, eyes staring down into Jensen like burning embers, mouth soft and hard against Jensen all at once. The delicate touches that worshipped him, the unrepentant enjoyment of his body, the connection that flowed like electricity between skin and soul, the intrinsic understanding. The insane, overwhelming hotness of it all. 

"Jared," he whispered. His hands dug into the round, hard curve of Jared's ass, their bodies moving in counterpoint rhythm, slipping and sliding, jolting and rutting, sweet clench of Jared tight around his dick, Jared's huge, hard cock leaking against Jensen's belly, and he reached down between them, fingers closing around it in a fist.

"Come for me," Jensen breathed the words into Jared's mouth.

"God, Jensen," Jared exhaled in a rush, words barely formed against his lips, those hips driving down to met him, again and again. "Fuck," Jared gasped as he pulled from the kiss and threw his head back. "I…"

"Yeah," Jensen growled, squeezing Jared's cock, putting all his weight behind the thrust of his hips. "Just like that."

Jared's hands locked on him, nails digging into flesh so deep they nearly drew blood, and Jensen could feel it all through him as Jared's ass clamped down on his cock, breath hitching in Jared's chest before he came, spurting in streams of pearly white across both their bellies. His hips jerked and thrashed, forehead crashing down into Jensen's, ring of muscle flexing around Jensen's cock, and he was amazing, the most gorgeous thing Jensen had ever seen, hotter than anything had a right to be and shit—fuck—

Sensation curled up from the base of his spine, balls contracting as he drove up into Jared's body, Jared's inner muscles squeezing and fluttering all around the length of him as his orgasm hit, flaying him wide open like an exposed nerve. He grabbed Jared by the hips and flipped him over, thrusting into Jared without rhythm or grace, jagged bursts of pleasure ripping through him as he came. Teeth buried in Jared's shoulder, he curled his hips under, pushing just that little bit deeper, crying out against salty skin as another jolt of pleasure struck like lightning, leaving him shivering and wrung out, tiny bursts of sensation spreading through him like ripples on a pond, his cock buried as deep inside Jared's ass as it could go. 

He unclenched his jaw, licking over the dented skin of Jared's shoulder like an apology for the bruise he knew would be there tomorrow. Jared's arms came up and wrapped around him, holding him there, both their hearts hammering in their chests, lungs heaving out hard breaths, both of them trembling with aftershocks, and Jensen lifted his head, pressed a kiss to Jared's lips and closed his eyes.

"That was a long time in the making," Jared whispered.

Jensen opened his eyes to find Jared gazing at him fondly, and smiled back before he let his head drift down to rest his cheek against Jared's chest. Jared's fingers stroked through the long, sweaty strands of Jensen's hair, smoothing them back against his skull, and they lay there for a while like that in silence, aftershocks slowing and then stilling completely.

"I know…" Jared began and then paused. Jensen could hear him take a breath and lick his lips. "I know this doesn't change anything."

Jensen hadn't had a lot of time to process his day—all the revelations that had gripped him and shaken him—but he knew the truth when he heard it. He could still leave. He'd spent so much of the last ten years alone and it hadn't gotten him much, but he'd believed it had kept him alive. This time, though, being on his own would probably end with him standing on the rooftop of a building, trying to work up the nerve to throw himself off and end the threat he posed to the world. Here, he had allies, friends, knowledge and resources that could potentially help him. And then there was Jared. Jensen didn't know how Jared could love him, knowing what they both knew, but he believed it. He had seen it, felt it.

Jensen cleared his throat lightly, and then said, "It does change things, actually."

Jared was silent for a long moment, and Jensen could almost feel his surprise.

"Are you still planning on leaving?" Jared asked, and Jensen could feel Jared's fingers stutter slightly against his face with the words.

"No," Jensen murmured. He didn't want to talk about it, but he also knew damned well Jared wouldn't leave it alone until he did. "If you can be brave enough to care about something as dangerous and unpredictable as I am, then I guess I can be brave enough to stay." _And try to be worthy of it_ , he thought but didn't say.

He felt Jared's head come up off the pillow. "Are you sure, Jensen? Because I want you to stay, but I want it to be because _you_ want to stay, not because I—"

Jensen lifted his head from Jared's chest and silenced him with a kiss. He placed the palm of his hand against Jared's cheek and drew back, meeting his gaze. It was goddamned difficult to look Jared in the eye just then, but Jensen forced himself to do it. "I want to," he said, succinct. "I'm scared to death that I'll lose control and screw up. But you're right; I'm stronger with you all than I would be alone. Without you guys… I've got nothing to keep me grounded."

"Okay," Jared said after a moment, nodding. "As long as you're sure." Jared looked at Jensen, hazel eyes searching his before he spoke again. "So where does this leave us?"

Jensen huffed out a sound that wasn't quite a laugh as he glanced away from the intensity of Jared's gaze. "I don't know. I haven't had a relationship since I was in high school, Jared. I don't know if I'm _capable_ of having a relationship."

Jared reached for Jensen's hand, laced his fingers through Jensen's, and squeezed lightly. "Then let's take things slow, see how it goes."

Jensen chewed at his lower lip, considering Jared for a few long seconds before he nodded. "That works for me."

"Shower?" Jared asked, giving him a wide, bright grin like sunshine.

"Sure." Jensen chuckled.

In the shower, Jared fell to his knees and sucked Jensen off like he was sucking a milkshake through a straw, hair plastered to his cheeks, eyes burning holes right through Jensen as he stared up at him. The tiled wall was cold against Jensen's back, but the rest of him was burning up, thrusting helplessly into Jared's mouth, and Jared twisted his neck, sliding all the way to the base for a brief instant before he pulled back. Jensen's thighs trembled, fingers gripping the wet mess of Jared's hair as he came, head thrown back in a loud groan as he shot straight down Jared's throat, Jared swallowing and milking him for every last drop until he was shivering and sated, barely able to stand. He dragged Jared's head away from his dick and pulled him to his feet, kissing him long and languidly as the water poured down over them.

Jensen was bone tired by the time they were scrubbed clean and dry, Jared pulling him back to bed for a nap. Jared wrapped around him like a blanket from behind, warm, soap-scented bare skin pressed up against every inch of Jensen's back, and Jensen fell asleep almost immediately.

When he woke again, the room was dark and the space next to him in the bed was empty and cool, floorboards of his apartment rumbling with bass. He rolled over, pressing his cheek against the coolness of the pillow, and promptly went back to sleep.

It was quiet again when Jared returned, stripping out of his clothes while Jensen watched. Jensen took him hard and fast against the mattress, coming first before he pulled out and slid down Jared's body, sucking Jared off and swallowing as Jared clenched fists in the sheets. He peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash, not bothering to get up and clean off, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.  
  


*    *    *  


It was somewhere around mid-morning when Jensen woke again, stirring against Jared's bare skin beneath the thick, aqua and orange comforter. His eyes blinked open, adjusting to the light as they focused, finding Jared's face inches from his own, Jared lying on his back within the circumference of Jensen's arm, those hazel eyes already fixed on Jensen's face.

_// Natalia's lips were soft, taste of bubble gum and lip gloss, scent of strawberries and light touch of her hands against his face //_

Jensen pulled his arm out from underneath Jared, reluctantly drawing away from the warmth of his skin. "Sorry," Jensen murmured. "It's…"

"My memories?" Jared asked, and Jensen nodded. "Is it… Are they painful for you?"

"Not painful." Jensen blinked away his sleepiness, searching for words. "It's jarring... invasive. And sometimes you see things you don't want to see. Things other people would wish you hadn't."

Jared shifted against the bed, his lips pursing for an instant. "I wish you… _we_ …" He sighed. "It doesn't seem fair that we can have sex, but we can't even hold hands." Jared's fingertips traced the air close enough to Jensen's cheek that he could almost feel it. "That I can't touch your face," Jared went on, wistful as he drew his hand away from Jensen's skin. "Or kiss you whenever I feel like it."

"I know." Jensen swallowed hard against his own disappointment.

"I guess we'll just have to figure out how this works, too." A slight smile creased Jared's lips as he reached out, brushing Jensen's hair back from his face, smoothing it behind Jensen's ear without with making skin contact. "In the meantime, you'll have to touch me first." 

Jensen smiled back and pulled up his defenses, leaning forward to let his lips melt against Jared's briefly. When he drew back, Jared was regarding him with open curiosity.

"So why Jack Less?" Jared asked.

Jensen pulled up one arm and folded it beneath his cheek against the pillow as he answered. "It's more my name than a lot of aliases I've used. Jensen Ackles. J, A-C-K-L-E-S. Jack Less."

"Okay, I get it. But Jensen, you'd told me so much already. Why didn't you tell me your real name?" Jared didn't seem angry, simply curious.

"I wanted to," Jensen confessed. "More than once. But I'm officially dead. And for years, I thought I'd been killing people instead of guiding their souls to the afterlife. I had to keep changing my appearance and my name in case anyone ever made a connection."

"But you found out that wasn't true."

"A few days ago," Jensen agreed. "But it's kind of awkward after a couple months of knowing someone to say, 'hey by the way, that isn't my real name'." Jensen paused, gauging his own emotion. "Kind of like now."

"It's a little awkward," Jared agreed with a lopsided smile. "But it doesn't change anything, does it? You're still the same you I've known the whole time." Jared shifted on the bed, turning on his side and resting his upper body weight against one elbow, hand pressed against the side of his head as he regarded Jensen with a warm smile. "Is there anything else I should know?"

It was on the tip of Jensen's tongue to admit his real name was the last vestige of his hidden life, his final secret, to tell Jared that he knew everything now. And then he remembered. 

Somewhere deep inside his mind, ancient symbols slumbered, power implicit in their shapes, ink and language unseen and unknown but definitively there. It wasn't simply that Jared might have been horrified by what Jensen had hidden in his head—Jensen would have risked that—it was that telling Jared could put Jared directly in danger, and that, Jensen staunchly refused to do.

"Jared," he whispered, refusing to lie, his admission of guilt gentle in the syllables of his lover's name, wishing and wistful.

Jared's face closed down then, like clouds over the sun, and he looked down at the bed, swallowing once before he nodded, slowly. "Okay. Okay then. You don't have to tell me everything."

Jensen wanted to, wanted to very badly, in fact. He _wanted_ to be honest, that had to count for something, didn't it? "I wish I could," he admitted.

Jared moved then, legs sliding as he turned to push up out of bed, and Jensen steeled himself, reached for Jared's arm, fingers curling around Jared's wrist.

"I'm sorry." The words seemed feeble compared to the pain they sent lancing through Jensen's chest.

Jared reached across his body with his other hand, covering Jensen's hand briefly with his own before he pulled from Jensen's touch entirely. It was a small gesture, but it was enough, a meaning Jensen understood implicitly.

Sunlight caressed Jared's bare skin as he rose from the bed, made him golden and impossibly even more beautiful, miles of tanned skin and perfect musculature, and Jensen had to swallow hard against the knot in his throat.

"Where are you going?" Jensen's voice was rough, and he cleared his throat briskly.

"You mean where are we going," Jared corrected as he slipped his legs into his jeans, gliding them up over his hips.

"Where are _we_ going, then?" Jensen repeated, puzzled.

Jared turned with a grin that made Jensen's heart flutter and reached out his hand.

Jensen damped down his power and took his hand, fingers twining around Jared's.

"Come on," Jared said.  
  


*    *    *  


After they both had dressed, Jared led Jensen downstairs to the bar. 

"I haven't been inside yet," Jared said as he stood before the door with the kelpie carved into it. "I made the mistake of closing it after everyone left and when I tried to open it again it was just a door set into the wall again."

"That's going to be an issue if you need to get books out of there." Jensen let his awareness sideslip into the Meridian as he focused on the door.

"All the more reason to get in there," Jared agreed. "There has to be a way humans can open this door to the library. If my grandfather could do it, then I should be able to."

"You think there's a spell you can use?"

"There has to be something."

The warding on the door was still there, written in red and orange symbols, and Jensen could only guess that it had been there to keep the kelpie from getting out on its own. It certainly hadn't stopped Jensen from opening the door—that had been what the kelpie was for. The door glowed, but it didn't whine or bulge or sweat sea water, and Jensen reached out, turning the knob.

Jared had said there was a whole library behind the door, but somehow Jensen was still surprised when he peered inside, sighting a beautiful, fully functional, normal library.

The ceilings were high and vaulted, made of dark, warm wood, and gas lanterns hung from them, illuminating the room in just enough light to see by and enough shadow to leave everything a sense of mystery. The shelves were also dark wood, beginning at the edges of the vaulted ceiling and spanned ten feet from ceiling to floor, filled to bursting with tomes and books. There were books bound in shades of leather from black to red to brown; some were simple hardback books with their bindings worn and tattered, and all were in varying states of use and age. Some of the leather bound books were distorted from moisture, pages swollen, bindings appearing nearly melted, and some were sharp and shiny new, gold writing pressed into them, corners perfect.

The shelves formed a long, wide hallway that disappeared into vague light about fifteen feet in, dark wood floor mostly covered by a long, burgundy carpet runner with strange symbols woven into the edges in gold thread. The smell of old paper and leather filled the air like safety and comfort, and there was an electric hush to the stillness of the air, like being on the verge of discovering something fantastic.

Jensen took a breath and crossed the threshold.

It seemed, at first impression, as normal as any other room he'd ever been in. He walked to one of the shelves and reached out, finger tracing a line down the spine of a green leather bound book. The title was etched into it with silver writing, and it read, "The Architecture of Reality". He ran his fingers down the length of it, feeling the slight ridges and lines of hardback leather, verifying its realness. It was solid and detailed, obviously there in the reality of the Prime, but there was something about it that struck Jensen as odd. Jensen drew his hand away, rubbing his fingertips together, and that was when it dawned on him. 

"There's no dust."

Jared, who had moved up beside him, merely raised his brows to that, saying, "Let's see what's further inside."

The hallway of shelves went on for a good twenty feet or so, and then opened to a circular room. It was a circular in both depth and height, made of curved, dark wood that rose to a ceiling at least twenty feet above them. Standing inside it was like standing inside an orb, floor cutting through it about three-fourths of the way down in a flat plane. Wooden support beams rose in crescent shapes at the edges, shelves fitted in between them. They were filled to the brim with jars containing odd looking liquids and powders in varying hues, feathers and shiny stones among less savory looking things suspended in fermented liquid, arranged three rows deep as far as the eye could see.

In the center of the room, above the strange design laid into the floor in dark and light wood, stood a circular table with several books scattered across it, one lying open near the edge where an overstuffed burgundy chair sat, as if someone had just been there, reading it. Adding to the illusion, next to the open book sat a ceramic coffee mug shaped like an owl with half-lidded eyes, a tree branch extending from its side in the shape of a handle. Jensen looked at it, frowning, wondering how long it had been sitting there, and then he blinked.

"Is that…" He took several steps closer to the mug and blinked again, brain unable to process what his eyes were telling him. 

"What?" Jared asked, looking up from the jars he'd been inspecting.

"It's… still steaming." The words came out strained and faint.

Jared walked over to the table, eyes riveted on the mug. "I remember these mugs," he said, voice filled with wonder. "My grandfather had a whole set of them. There was a rack in his kitchen carved like a tree that they hung on." Jared slipped his fingers through the branch shaped handle, lifting the mug from the table. He craned his neck, sniffing at the steaming liquid inside. "It's definitely still hot."

Jensen was about to ask 'how?' when Jared tilted the mug to his lips and took a sip.

"Don't!" Jensen exclaimed, reaching out too late to stop Jared.

Jared lowered the mug and swallowed calmly. "It tastes fresh. Cinnamon tea," he said. "Just like Pop Pop used to drink."

When Jared didn't burst into flame or start gagging or keel over dead, Jensen relaxed slightly, glancing about the room. He thought about the way the room was free of dust, the way the tea was still steaming, how the gas lights were still in working order. "It's a spell," he said, decisive. "Some kind of preservation spell cast on the whole room?"

"I guess so." Jared still seemed distracted by the tea. "Wow. This has been in here for more than fifteen years. Maybe longer, depending on when he left it."

"Maybe it's some kind of time spell?" Jensen suggested. "Something to freeze time? I saw a movie with something like that once."

"If it is," Jared said, setting the mug back down, "it's not affecting us."

"Because we're still moving." Jensen looked around again before his eyes settled on Jared. "So you can see everything in here?"

"I think so. Books, shelves, jars, table?" Jared asked, and when Jensen nodded, he went on, "My grandfather was mostly human, according to Tenth. He must have made this room in the Prime so humans could use it."

"But Xae said this was probably a pocket dimension." Jensen frowned, thinking about that. "I wonder how all this works."

"Magic," Jared replied, his handsome face splitting in a brilliant smile as he lifted his hands, palms outward, and wiggled his fingers.

Jensen chuckled and then took a few steps back toward the bookshelves. "How are we supposed to find the books with the warding magic in all of this?" 

Jared stepped up beside him and shrugged one massive shoulder, tossing his hair back out of his eyes with a practiced twist of his neck. "The old-fashioned way. One book at a time."

Jensen sighed and eyed the rows of bookshelves with a heavy heart.  
  


*    *    *  


An hour later they sat on the floor in the hallway of bookshelves, Jared sitting cross-legged and hunched over an ancient, gigantic Rolodex they'd found on one of the shelves in the round room. Jensen sat with his back against a row of books, thumbing through the pages of one of Jared's grandfathers' handwritten journals. 

"I think I've figured out the system," Jared was saying. "The Rolodex has everything in alphabetical order by subjects, but the books and the jars are arranged on the shelves by corresponding numbers listed here. It's kind of like the Dewey Decimal System." 

"So have you looked under 'warding' or 'protection' yet?" 

"I will," Jared said, flipping through the Rolodex to the middle and then a bit further.

"What are you looking for?" Jensen asked, closing the journal on Alvin's ruminations on the uses of willow tree bark beyond aspirin.

"Something for 'sight', maybe. There are so many references for 'Meridian' and 'humans'." Jared sighed and flipped another card over. "The most important thing is being able to access this room."

"You wouldn't think all the references for this room would fit in a single Rolodex."

"Unless it's a magical, never-ending Rolodex," Jared replied with a smirk. "I've already gone through more cards than could possibly be on here."

"Of course." Jensen nodded, unsurprised. He ran his fingers over the symbols drawn on the cover of the journal, thinking. "It's not just sight though," Jensen said. "It's more like travelling, because you have to exist in the Meridian, too. That's why I can open the door to the library and you can't." He paused, thinking a moment more. "What about cross-referencing? 'Humans' and 'plane travel'? Or 'humans' and 'travel' and 'Meridian'? 

"Already on it." Jared flipped through several more cards, reading one, and then left his forefinger to hold his place as he thumbed forward again, checking another card. "Holy shit," he said, flipping back and forth between the two cards a few times, re-reading. "I think I found something."

Jared slid the Rolodex aside and rose to his feet, eyes scanning the shelves as he walked with contemplation to the end of the hall. "If I'm right… those books should be…" His index finger moved through the air over the spines of a few rows of books, not quite touching them. "Right about… here." His finger came to rest on the spine of an old, red leather-book, and he cocked his head to one side, reading the title. After a moment, he pulled it free of the shelf and opened it up, cradling it in one hand while he turned pages with the other. He was quiet for a long time, so long that Jensen picked up another journal and began to page through it.

Jensen lost himself in reading about theories on the weave and how it worked, unsure of how much time had passed when Jared finally broke the silence.

"Here! I found it!" Jared was still standing there, looking at an entirely different book, this one even older and bound in what looked like barely tanned animal skin. "Mortal spell of Planar travel," he read aloud, excited. "Most humans are limited to their senses in the Prime. A few can see and move within the Astral, but very few can glimpse or go as far as the Meridian." Jared continued to read on quietly for a few moments, and then he tapped the page with growing exuberance. "This is definitely it."

Jensen set the journal on top of the stack of books next to him and rose to his feet. "You can read that?" he asked, moving up alongside Jared and peering at the book.

"It's Latin, and yes. I told you I was a history buff, but I also majored in Ancient Studies in college. I've been studying ancient languages my whole life. My grandfather was the one who got me into it." Jared huffed out a small laugh. "Now I guess I know why."

Jensen frowned at the unintelligible text, more concerned about the spell. "Is it dangerous?"

"Not really. Except for the part where it might kill me," Jared said and shrugged. "Just a slight case of the deads."

"What?" Jensen tilted his head nearly sideways at Jared in disbelief.

Jared met Jensen's eyes, tilted his head to match Jensen's angle, and winked before he grinned.

"You asshole," Jensen said, fondly, and kissed him.

Presently, they brought a copper bowl out from the room that reminded Jensen of Rajeet's handmade, beaten metal jewelry and set it upon the wooden bar. Jensen helped Jared carry out various jars and something that looked like a capped, glass carafe, and then sat down on a barstool to watch Jared.

"Why are we doing this out here, though?" Jensen asked. 

"I don't know if we _can_ do it in there. I have to mix these ingredients, and…"

"You think the time freeze spell might stop you?"

"I think it's more like suspended animation. Time still goes on, but everything in there stays exactly as it was when it was brought in."

"You mean I could be immortal if I moved in there?" Jensen asked, coming to a standstill.

"I don't think it works on living things." Jared frowned, and then dug his hand into his back pocket. He pulled out a box cutting knife and popped the blade out, looking at it for an instant before he set the blade against the skin of his forearm.

"What are you—"

Jared nicked the flesh of his forearm before Jensen could finish his sentence, a few drops of blood welling up and spilling over. "Now," Jared said, as he slid the blade back inside its sheath with his thumb and shoved the box cutter back into his pocket. "Let's see."

Jared walked over to the library room and stepped inside. After a moment, Jensen stood up and followed, uncertain of what Jared was trying to accomplish. Feeling foolish, he stood there inside the doorway, so very close to Jared that he could feel the heat coming off Jared's body, both of their gazes locked on the tiny cut on Jared's forearm. After a few minutes, Jared wiped the blood away, the well of it from beneath the skin having grown sluggish. A few minutes after that, it had formed a barrier against further blood escaping. 

"I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that means the skin still heals," Jared said. "Which means time still passes for us, we still age. I think this spell only affects inanimate objects, non-living things. But if they're preserved, the spell ingredients might be… inert, for lack of a better word."

"Kind of a huge disadvantage, not being able to do spells in there," Jensen remarked.

"We'll figure it all out eventually. For now, it's better if we just do it out here."

Jared moved back toward the bar and Jensen followed, settling in on the stool again as he watched.

The mortar and pestle Jared was using looked ancient, made of carved stone that wasn't as smooth as it could've been. "Borderland flower…" Jared murmured, "poppy petals, check. Dragonfly wing, check. Sands of time, check." 

"Sands of time? Where the hell do you get those from?" Jensen asked.

"According to the book, from somewhere in the Drift."

"The empty layer Xae mentioned?" 

"Apparently not completely empty." Jared shrugged. "I have a lot of reading to do." 

As Jared continued to read off and add ingredients, Jensen looked at the book, wishing for a moment that he could read it for himself. There was so much he didn't know.

"Pinch of dried Salvia, check. And the cinnamon oil," Jared said, as he poured in a bit of oil from the glass carafe. He turned the pestle a few more times to grind it all together, and then dumped the mixture into the copper bowl. It looked like a reddish-brown glob of sandy paint to Jensen, nothing magical about it in the least.

"Now," Jared said, "the symbol you need to draw is here." He tapped the book over the crude image of an eye. "I need you to anoint me—draw that—where my third eye would be, and say the words here." He tapped the book again, lower down, in the text.

"Me?" Jensen asked, surprised. "But I can't read Latin."

"It has to be a Legacy that casts the spell, or else it won't be permanent." Off Jensen's skeptical look, Jared said, "Just do the best you can. I'll guide you around the pronunciation."

"Are you sure you want this to be permanent?" Jensen asked.

"There's a spell to undo it if I ever need to."

"All right, then." Dubiously, Jensen dipped his thumb into the mixture and smeared it in an eye shape above and between Jared's brows before he dotted the center with an iris. He spoke the Latin in halting tones, Jared nudging him along here and there—and then almost fell backward when the symbol on Jared's forehead exploded with a brilliant red glow. A moment later, it vanished, as if absorbed into the skin, and Jensen blinked in confusion.

"Did it work?" Jensen asked.

"I don't know." Jared frowned.

Jensen knew one way they could find out for sure. He closed his eyes and opened his mind, reaching for the Valkyrie inside him. He felt his consciousness slip, like a bad frame in a film reel, then catch and hold as her awareness merged with his, fitting to him like a second skin, edges of the world growing sharper, more defined. 

_It's getting easier_ , he realized, _the more I do it_.

_-It became easier the moment you accepted my power was inside you-_

In the Meridian, the bones of his wings unfurled from where they laid against his back, rising upward and outward, shimmering black feathers and then a billion sharp swords before they settled into the image of pure white feathers that hissed with fire. Flame danced over his skin, crackling like electricity, and ancient power thrummed in his veins.

Jared's eyes widened until they were round as saucers, his long legs stumbling backward before he caught his balance against the bar with one hand and held on tight. His long fingers squeezed the wood until Jensen thought it would crack open, the two of them staring at each other in silence. 

"Oh my god," Jared whispered and blinked once. He let go of the bar and moved a step toward Jensen, his eyes filled with awe. "Oh my god," he said again, reverent. "Jensen, you're beautiful."

Jared took another step forward and reached out, fingertips skimming Jensen's wings. Jensen shivered, realizing he could _feel_ Jared's touch, as if the wings were an extension of his own body. Jared glanced at Jensen's face, and then back at Jensen's wings as he stroked his fingers along several rows of feathers.

Jensen hissed in a breath, his lashes fluttering as he shuddered.

"Does it… does it hurt?" Jared asked, tentative.

"Not even a little bit," Jensen whispered. There was nothing unpleasant about it. In fact, it was extremely pleasurable—maybe a little too much so.

Jared stepped even closer to Jensen until only mere inches separated their faces, and Jensen could see the warm glow of his own fire reflected in the hazel depths of Jared's eyes. "I imagined what you might look like, but the reality is so much more than I ever dreamed."

"The fire doesn't burn you?" Jensen asked, struggling to focus beyond the luminous heat of Jared's gaze.

Jared shook his head slowly, ends of his hair brushing at his jawline.

_-It would if you wished to harm him-_

_~Hush~_

Jensen laid a hand against Jared's cheek, watching fire curl and leap along his fingers, the reflection of it dancing in Jared's eyes, and then he leaned in, pressing his lips to Jared's. It was a sweet kiss, long and slow, tongues circling, testing, tasting, tender and tentative at first, and then teasing as Jensen opened his mouth wider, angling his face against Jared's.

He reached with his mind for the wings that had sprung from his body, felt them rustle and then respond, curling and curving around himself and Jared until they stood inside the circumference of them, sheltered and hidden from the world. Jensen suckled lazily on Jared's tongue, fingers sliding around the back of Jared's neck as he drew his wings more tightly around them, and kissed out with a final touch of his lips. He let his forehead tilt upward against Jared's, staring into those eyes as they opened, and saw them light up when Jared realized where they were.

Jared grinned, beaming at Jensen like the sun itself, and Jensen felt it go straight through his heart.

Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared, not a memory in sight, and Jared kissed him again. They stood there like that, just kissing, Jensen feeling the sensation rush through him, and it was a long time before he called his wings home.  



	9. Chapter 9

Jensen spent most of the night sitting on his bed, books spread out around him as he read. Most of the spell books were beyond him—those he'd have to leave to Jared—but the ones he'd brought with him had been written in the last century or so in English. The particular book he was reading was thin, but promised knowledge about the layers of reality. He felt like he understood the Astral and the Meridian well enough, skimming through those chapters until he came to the one titled 'The Drift'.

_Of all the discovered layers of reality, the least is known about the vast plane called the Drift. Purported to have once been home to the old gods, it now stands empty, its giant architecture slowly crumbling, a silent wasteland filled with sand and stone. Here, one will find staircases that ascend to nowhere, inexplicably floating buildings, and structures made of strange substances that appear almost crystalline in nature._

_In this layer of reality, time moves differently, more quickly in some places, agonizingly slowly in others. It is unknown if this was always the case or an effect that took place after the old gods were banished._

_Those who have traveled there have reported feeling "disoriented", "lost" and a general sense of being far from the Prime. Most who have traveled that far experienced difficulty returning to the Prime, and it is suspected that some have never returned at all. No one knows how far the Drift spans, and it is rumored to be the final layer between the Prime and the Tenebrum: the prison of the old gods. No one has ever been able to verify the truth of this._

_The Tenebrum, wherein it is said the Cimmerian City still exists, has never been discovered, known only through writings surviving the time of the Reckoning. If indeed it does exist, it is a place best left untouched and unknown by mortals._

The text went on to describe various methods of travel to the Drift. Jensen frowned and flipped through several more pages. He found information on other layers Xae hadn't mentioned, but he could find no further explanation of the Tenebrum or the Cimmerian City. He would have settled for knowing more about the Reckoning, but there was nothing about that, either. The books he had perused so far were skimpy on the details of exactly where, how and why the old gods had been locked away in the first place.

He wondered if that knowledge had somehow been lost as he examined a surreal sketch of a building. The illustration note said it was drawn as described by someone who had supposedly ventured to the Drift and back.

The Tenebrum. He wondered if that was the place the spell hidden inside his mind would crack open.

He sighed and set the book aside, reaching for one titled, 'Navigating the Prime: A Legacy's Guide'. He was deep into reading about manifesting in the Prime and the damage it could do to the weave when he became aware of someone approaching.

Jared smiled from the bedroom doorway, holding up a bottle of wine and two glasses. Jensen sat up straight and motioned him into the room.

"It's hot in here," Jared remarked with a grin, not stepping inside. "You really ought to complain to the landlord about that."

"We could just take off our clothes," Jensen suggested with a chuckle.

Jared's answering smile was wide and pleased. "In a few minutes," he said, and motioned to the hall. "Let's step out on the balcony."

Jensen considered for a moment and then shrugged, stretching before he rose from the bed and left the books behind.

Outside, there was a tiny bench made of wrought iron and topped with thick, slatted wood of to one side, and Jared sat the wine glasses down, filling them halfway with the opened bottle before he sat that down, too. They clinked their glasses together and drained most of the liquid in a few swallows.

"Are we celebrating something?" Jensen asked, curious as he sat his empty glass back down.

"Yay, we killed the kelpie? Yay, we're alive? Yay, we have a library? Yay, we had amazing sex? A lot? All of the above?" Jared grinned and sat his glass down, too, before turning toward Jensen.

"And you didn't bring me a balloon this time?" Jensen asked. "You'd think this would rate a 'Congratulations' balloon."

"This is definitely a 'Get Well' balloon situation. It's like you don't even know how this works," Jared admonished him playfully. He glanced down at their glasses then. "I know it's not vodka, but wine doesn't need a mixer."

"Who needs a mixer?" Jensen asked, deadpan.

"Not all of us are as hardcore as you, Mister I have accepted vodka as my personal savior. So, sadly, wine it is."

"I'll allow you to make it up to me," Jensen said and smirked.

"Oh you'll _allow_ it." Jared wiggled his eyebrows with the words.

The night was cold, but not bitterly so. The promise of winter not yet realized hung on the air, there in the mist of Jensen's breath as he laughed, in the chill of his fingers as he wrapped his arms around Jared and pushed his hands into Jared's back pockets. The balcony of his apartment wasn't very large, more of a suggestion than an actual balcony, and it was colder than Jensen liked, but it gave him an excuse to be close to Jared.

A mild breeze rippled over Jensen's skin, setting off goosebumps that raced up his arms and down his spine.

"Did you get any sleep?" Jared asked, tightening his arms around Jensen to help warm him.

Jensen shook his head. "I was reading."

"Anything interesting?" 

Jensen opened his mouth, about to explain what he'd read about the Drift and the mysterious prison of the old gods—

A scream erupted from the alleyway below them, feminine and horrified.

They yanked away from each other, heads turning in the direction of the sound.

Another cry sounded, this one more muffled but still distinct. Without thought, Jensen leapt up onto the wrought iron railing of the porch, balancing his weight as his wings sprang forth, fire racing over his skin. They were three stories up and Jensen had never even considered trying anything like this before, wasn't considering it then, either, as he leaned over, falling from the rail.

A hand caught hold of his, pulling him up short, and he looked back, about to tell Jared he didn't need saving—

The words died in his throat as Jared leapt over the rail into the air beside him.

"What the f—"

Jared's weight caught quickly, dragging Jensen downward before he could finish speaking. Jensen flapped his wings frantically to slow their descent, heart beating a terrified rhythm in his chest, fingers clenching Jared's in a deathgrip. It wasn't flying so much as controlled falling, and Jared's bare feet touched the asphalt first, Jensen letting go of his hand and landing lightly beside him.

"What were you thinking?" Jensen demanded, voice sharp and shaky. 

"The same thing you were," Jared replied, like he was surprised Jensen didn't already know.

"I _wasn't_ thinking!"

Another scream issued from somewhere further down the alley, its owner lost to the shadows deeper within, and Jensen's head snapped in that direction, his anger at Jared forgotten. The two of them took off running, coming to a halt as they saw what was causing the cries.

In the Meridian, it was tall and little more than pale-green and white mottled skin stretched over bone, every knob in its spine visible as it hunched over the young woman it had trapped beside a dumpster. Its eyes were pale and colorless, two bulbous, round orbs with no pupils visible, and its hands ended in monstrous clawed fingers. Like so many of their kind, it had too many teeth, all of them long and sharp as a shark's. Its jaw was split in half at the long point of its chin, bone broken into two parts like mandibles. A thick tongue snaked out from its maw, oozing with pustules and sores, and it dripped with thick, oily saliva. Jensen watched with mounting horror as the tip of the tongue opened like the petals of a flower and struck at the woman's neck.

She couldn't have been very strong, but she was managing to hold the thing's teeth at bay with one hand pressed against its forehead. The distance between them didn't account for the thing's tongue though, and it hit home against her throat, hungry petals closing like talons in her skin. 

Without ceremony, Jensen reached inside his chest, digging beneath his ribs and pushing past his organs in a rush, and tore his sword free with a thick rending sound.

The creature's head swung around drunkenly to look at Jensen with those, eerie, empty eyes, and then it whined, a high, sickening titter like a hyena as it looked back at its meal.

Jensen rushed the thing, sword pointed straight out, and it spun around, throwing the woman between it and Jensen. Jensen didn't know what his sword would do to humans in the Prime, if anything, and he wasn't eager to find out. He threw all his weight to the right, sailing past the woman with his momentum, and caught himself on one knee, sliding for an instant before his left wing arced out, turning perpendicular to the ground to counterbalance him and keep him from falling.

The creature was already out of reach, scampering on all fours up the side of the building to the rooftop. Jensen watched it disappear from view, cursing beneath his breath, and then pushed to his feet. He could flutter downward and keep himself from reaching terminal velocity, but that was a far cry from actually being able to fly—and unless he started flying, the creature was going to be long gone in seconds flat. He sighed, frustrated, and then he began to push his blade back inside his chest, body pulling it inward when the hilt met his flesh. A moment later, he let his power flicker out and recede, senses snapping fully into the Prime.

Behind him, he could Jared asking the woman if she was all right.

Jensen turned and saw Jared holding the woman by her elbows, her chest pressed against his abdomen as she stared up at him. She was dressed in a long, black and white, zig-zag striped coat that looked expensive, black slacks that flared at the ends, and a pair of spindly, black high-heeled boots that looked too fragile to bear her weight. Her hair, too, was long and black, full and thick and hanging halfway down her back, bangs cut just above her eyebrows in the front, and a black, patent leather purse hung from one shoulder, suspended on a silver length of chain that comprised the strap.

A ring glittered in the moonlight as one of her hands fluttered to touch her throat. Her fingertips brushed against her pulse line, where the creature had attached its tongue, but then she shoved away from Jared, looking him up and down once. "I'm fine. And _you_ look fine. Him on the other hand," she said, throwing her hand Jensen's way as she turned her face to look at him. "He's not fine."

Jensen wasn't sure what she was talking about, but she seemed all right, as she'd said. "He's gone, ma'am," Jensen said as he approached. "I'm sorry I couldn't catch him."

"You couldn't just fly up after him?" the woman demanded, motioning in the direction the creature had fled up the side of the building.

Jensen glanced at Jared and Jared met his look, brows drawing together.

"Listen, it's late." Uncertain of what she'd seen, or how much of it she'd understood, Jensen forced a smile to his lips. "You should be getting home now." He walked up to Jared and took his hand, beginning to lead him toward the front of the building.

"Hey!" The woman marched up and stopped in front of Jensen. "You can't just leave. I saw that! You had wings. And that thing—" she gestured again in the direction said 'thing' had run off in, "had bigger teeth than Jaws."

" _I_ need a spell, but sure, _she_ can see you right away," Jared muttered, sardonic.

"I don't think she's…" Jensen trailed off, shaking his head slowly.

The woman drew herself up to her full height—which might have been five feet and five inches at most in her heels—and put her hands on her hips, chin rising high as she stared Jensen down. "I'm standing right here."

Her eyes looked dark brown in the night, her skin pale white, and freckles dusted her nose, fanning out across the tops of her cheeks. Her lips were lush, vivid red, the color of fire engines, and they glistened, standing out in contrast to the rest of her. She was pretty, with a slender nose, slightly turned up at the end, her eyes wide and her jaw well-defined, but otherwise she seemed unremarkable. Jensen let his awareness sideslip into the Meridian again as he considered her, and still, she appeared human.

Maybe she hadn't learned how to manifest her Legacy form, yet. Still, he'd thought he would have seen something, especially when her life was in danger—she should have at least manifested in the Meridian at that point if she were a Legacy.

As he looked down at her, a single raindrop fell from the sky, hitting her forehead and forming a perfect circle in the moment before gravity claimed it. She blinked, her thick, dark lashes flickering, but other than that, she continued to stare at Jensen. Another drop of rain hit her upturned face, and then more droplets began to fall in a sleepy drizzle from the sky.

Jensen was about to say good night again, more forcefully, when he saw it.

Flash and flicker like static, her hair just as dark but floating on the air as if caught in a current, her eyes fully black and without irises at all. Her features were softer, more rounded, and she was bare from the waist up, but from the waist down…

Thunder rolled softly in the sky above them as Jensen finally understood what he was looking at. Brown spots in varying sizes speckled her pale body, beginning beneath her breasts and growing larger as they continued down her hips. Her legs were seamlessly fused together, ending in… not a fish tail, but flippered feet that could have been mistaken for a tail from a distance.

It was a fuzzy picture at best, and it faded in and out, but one look at Jared and he knew he was right.

"Half... seal?" Jensen asked.

Jared nodded. "Selkie," he said.

The word made little sense to Jensen, but then, so few things did, lately.

"And now we're the home for wayward Legacies," Jensen muttered and raised his eyes to the rainy sky. He sighed, then looked back down at the woman in front of him.

"I guess you'd better come with us."  
  


  
[](https://ibb.co/iTzwKJ)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

*    *    *

   
They took her into the club, Jared flipping on the bright overhead lights before going to the library to get a book. Crystal—that was the woman's name, apparently, Crystal Richardson—sat down at the bar, and Jared returned, wasting no time launching into an explanation that told her the bare minimum of what she needed to know about being a Legacy, and a Selkie in particular.

"I'm a _what_?" Crystal asked.

"Based on what we saw," Jared said, pointing to the open book he'd brought out of the library, "we think you're probably a Selkie. Your Legacy form didn't manifest in the Meridian until you got wet from the rain. Which sort of makes sense, because Selkies are water-dwelling creatures in mythology."

"And that's this lumpy looking, seal-mermaid thing?" she asked, seeming dubious. She tapped the image sketched on the page Jared had stopped on with a perfectly manicured nail—Jensen had given enough palm readings to customers with expensive French manicures to know one when he saw it. Everything from her clothing to her jewelry to her perfume and nails screamed of money, and Jensen couldn't help but wonder what she'd been doing wandering behind the building at that hour. Her speech pattern was fairly rapid fire, accentuated with emphatic highs and lows around the syllables, but Jensen didn't think that was shock so much as just the way she spoke.

"Why does it look so depressed?" she demanded, pulling the book closer and squinting at the sketch with derision. "Oh, probably because of its _hair_. Wow. It looks like a sad umbrella made out of… hair."

"Crystal," Jensen prompted, interrupting her inspection. "What were you doing out there, anyway?"

"Clubbing," she said in a 'duh' tone of voice as she lifted one shoulder and gave Jensen a glance that seemed to question his intelligence before she looked back down. "You know this Selkie thing would probably be a lot happier if someone gave her a makeover."

Jared leaned down against bar, resting his elbows against it, bringing himself down to her height. "Crystal, did that guy lure you into the alley? Are you sure you're okay?"

She looked up at Jared with an expression of vague surprise. "Please," she scoffed. "As if." Her hands moved as she began to speak. "So, I went down 13th street because I was _famished_ —there's this really great place called Murph's, they make the _best_ pizza, have you ever been there? Absolutely one-hundred percent would recommend. The white pizza is to _die for_ ," she said, touching a hand to her chest and looking heavenward. "Anyway, I went to get a slice and my girls went to the next club. I was cutting through the alley back to U street when that _thing_ attacked me."

"And you thought cutting through an alley at this hour was a smart idea?" Jensen asked, perplexed.

"Jesus. It's not like it's LA," she said, the expression on her face registering disgust at the very thought of LA, apparently. "It's U Street."

Mystified, Jensen met Jared's eyes and Jared simply shrugged his own incomprehension as the woman went on turning pages in the book. 

"It was only weird because it was _this_ alley," she spoke in a distracted tone, as if not fully conscious of her words as she continued to browse the pages. "Instead of the one I usually take."

"What made you change your routine?" Jensen asked, truly curious. 

Crystal shrugged again, eyes still riveted on the pages of the book. "Just… something. Kind of… pulled me, I guess?" She stopped speaking and glanced away from the book as she seemed to realize what she'd just said. The gravity—or perhaps the strangeness—of it seemed to settle over her for a moment… then she frowned and shrugged again, brows rising as if to say 'whatever' as she turned to the next page and continued skimming. 

"Tenth said there'd be Legacies drawn to the energy here," Jared said, somber as he looked to Jensen. "That would explain the other creature, too."

Jensen nodded and rubbed a hand over his face. It was late, and he was tired and he hadn't refused to sign up for the Coalescence so he could babysit his own version.

"Crystal—"

"I really think I'd be something sleeker. More colorful. You know, like a koi mermaid," she interrupted as if Jensen hadn't spoken at all. "Oh, or maybe one of those horse-women things."

"Doesn't any of this freak you out?" Jared asked, like he was concerned.

Jensen had to hold back a laugh. "Okay, kettle," he murmured, shooting a smirk in Jared's direction.

"Not really." Crystal shrugged as she flipped another page. "I mean, I was scared in the alley, but now I get it. I grew up reading about this kind of stuff. I never thought it was real, but I'm kinda not surprised, you know? My last boyfriend, now _that_ was weird." She paused, pointing a finger upward at the air for emphasis. "Of course, once I figured out he was bipolar then it all made sense." Her face grew thoughtful for an instant and then she shook her hand at the air as if shooing away the whole memory. She turned another page and then she stopped, a thought seeming to occur to her. 

"How about you?" Crystal asked, looking up at Jared with a brilliant smile, and Jensen could swear he saw rows of teeth in it it was so predatory. "Are you… seeing anyone?"

"I'm very taken. I know, it's heartbreaking," Jared said with a good-natured wink at her. "But if you come by the club later tonight you might be able to find some lovely consolation prizes."

It was probably just habit, Jared being Jared and flirtatious and friendly as hell, but it was all Jensen could do to contain himself, not to shove his elbow into Jared's ribs. He settled for shooting Jared an intense look of warning instead. They had enough on their plates at the moment—at least Jensen did. The last thing they needed was a stray Legacy hanging around.

Thankfully Crystal's mouth pulled in an odd, almost 's' shape of disgust and she shook her head rapidly, dark hair rustling against her white silk blouse. "No thanks. Club guys: _gross_." She closed the book with those words, tossed her hair back and rose from the stool.

"Well don't worry," Jared said as he slid the book back toward himself, "we're going to figure out what that creature was and keep an eye out for it."

"Oh." Crystal's dark eyes lit up with sudden memory as she shrugged into her coat and lifted her hair free of it. "Yeah, I found it. It's a Ghoul, page thirty-four."

Jared's brow furrowed and he turned the book around, opening it and rifling to the page she'd noted. On it, there were hasty pencil lines and smears forming a grotesque face that matched exactly the creature they'd seen accosting her earlier. "That's… yeah. That's it." He seemed caught off guard. 

"Thanks for the rescue. My driver is here," Crystal said, waving at them with one hand, phone in the other as she hurried for the door.

They stood, watching the door close behind her in silence.

"Do you think we should…?" Jared trailed off, still looking at the closed door.

"No," Jensen replied, emphatic. He looked at the door a moment longer and then he sighed, realizing the truth of the situation. "Besides, she'll be back."

"You think?" 

"Absolutely. She's going to have questions." Jensen looked at the walls around them, all the doors set into them. "We need to get this place locked down, and quick, or we're going to be overrun by Legacies."

"Tomorrow," Jared said by way of agreement. He moved up close alongside Jensen, not quite touching him. "For now, let's go to bed. We can get an early start."

Jensen took a moment to damp down his power, and then laced his fingers through Jared's. Earlier, they'd been able to make out without any of Jared's memories sharing with Jensen, but that only seemed to work when Jensen called the Valkyrie out to play. He pressed a quick kiss to Jared's lips and then helped him lock up the club before they went upstairs to Jensen's apartment.  
  


*    *    *

  
When Jensen's eyes opened, it was to the sound of a phone alarm ringing out tones incessantly. He groaned, rubbed at his face, and then steeled himself to lean across Jared's bare chest and hit the snooze button. 

The sound ceased and Jared stirred, smiling to find Jensen so close. Instead of moving back to his side of the bed, Jensen leaned in, kissing him lightly, and Jared lifted his hands, sliding them through Jensen's hair and pulling him in. Jared was warm and so very naked and inviting, lying there in Jensen's bed, and Jensen shifted his lower body, sliding up so that half his body weight rested against Jared's. His morning hard on grew more insistent, cock going flush and fully hard against Jared's thigh, and Jensen was losing himself in the kiss, mind already making plans for what he intended to do to Jared when a buzzing ring sounded out.

"What _is_ that?" Jensen asked, frowning as he drew back from the kiss.

"Doorbell," Jared said and sighed, already starting to move. "The guy who's installing the doors is here. That's why I had the alarm set," he explained as he got up from the bed, beginning to tug on his underwear.

Jensen nodded, swallowing his disappointment. "At least we'll have safe doors."

"At least you'll have _a_ door," Jared said, sliding his shirt over his head. "Safety is gonna depend on what we find in the books today."

Jared went to let the carpenter in and Jensen got dressed in a hurry before the two of them could make it upstairs. Jensen greeted the man, giving him a once over in the Meridian just to be as sure as he could the guy was human. They left the guy to his work and headed down to the library, pulling some likely books from the shelf before settling in at one of the tables on the chill side of the club. Alicia joined them about an hour later, selecting a few books of her own to look through.

"You know," Jensen said and sighed as he closed another book on symbols he barely understood, "this would be a lot easier if Xae could help us. She's got more familiarity with this than any of us."

"Didn't you say she was busy?" Jared asked.

"With the new regime." Jensen nodded.

"Should we meet this new Tenth?" Jared asked, looking over at Jensen. He was leaning back in his chair, long legs crossed and calves stretched out across the edge of the table so his shoes hung off the edge, book open against his lap.

"No," Jensen said, too quickly, and they both looked at him, askance. He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable, and then said, more slowly, "I mean, what's the point?"

They both nodded vaguely, and went back to their respective books.

Jensen opened another book, trying to concentrate on what he was looking at. He hadn't given much thought to the Coalescence, or Tenth, or even the revelations he'd had about himself just days before—he'd been too busy. If Jensen had anything to say about it, they'd never meet the new leader of the Coalescence, but he suspected he wouldn't be that lucky. Still, he planned to avoid it for as long as possible.

A knock sounded on the glass front door, and Alicia looked up from her book at Jared. "Are you expecting anyone else?"

Jared shook his head and Alicia rose from the table, moving to answer the door. When she returned, Crystal was with her. She was wearing a full length, fluffy coat made of long, white, wooly fur and a pair of large black sunglasses tinted so dark it was impossible to see her eyes. Her lips were the same shade of vivid red they'd been the night before, and on each arm she carried a woven basket.

"That is a _gorgeous_ shade of lipstick—what is that?" Crystal was asking. 

"Urban Decay, Nighthawk. And thanks," Alicia said, smiling.

"It's perfect on you," Crystal said with a wave of her hand. "You know, some people will say all lipstick colors are 'you'—your lilac you, your orange you—not true," she said shaking her head and making an expansive gesture. "Matching skin tone is _everything_."

"Crystal," Jensen greeted her, forcing a smile. "What brings you back?"

"And what is that smell?" Jared asked, sniffing the air. "It's amazing."

"Oh, I made cookies," Crystal said, setting the baskets down in the center of the table. "White chocolate Thai snickerdoodles," she pointed to the basket closest to Jensen, "and dark chocolate chocolate chip cookies." She pointed to the other.

Jensen regarded her silently for a moment and then leaned over. The scent of cinnamon was heavenly, and the cookies looked perfectly, buttery crispy on the outside, white chocolate chips nestled amongst visible cinnamon swirls. "You made these?"

"Degree in business management, amazing memory, gorgeous, _and_ I can bake. I am a catch," she declared with a grin.

"And yet you're _here_ for some reason," Jensen muttered with breezy sarcasm, and Alicia poked him in the side, giving him a reproachful look.

"So you studied business?" Jared asked.

"My dad." She shook her head as she took off her sunglasses. "He raised me my whole life to take over the family business and then sold it to another company a year after I got my degree." 

Alicia snorted and shook her head. "Figures."

"He said it was too much money to turn down." Crystal shrugged, flicking her fingers at the air. "I never really wanted it anyway. And my trust fund is more than enough."

Alicia tilted her head as if to say 'fair enough' and then reached into the basket for a cookie.

"Board meetings were never my thing. And sitting at a desk all day." Crystal rolled her eyes. "Please. I'd lose my mind."

"So what do you do?" Alicia asked, breaking off a piece of cookie. 

"I owned and ran a nightclub called Dimensions in LA. Ugh." She made a face. "LA, what a _shithole_ ." She made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Anyway, I was just doing it for the fun, you know? And I was good at it, and it got popular—lines around the block every night—but I wanted to get out of LA, so I sold it. I just moved to DC a few months ago. Classier here," she said with a nod, "but I've been bored out of my _mind_ ever since."

"You looking for work?" Jared asked, and there was something odd about his tone that made Jensen cut a sideways look at him.

"Thinking about it." Crystal took off her coat, hanging it on the back of the last empty chair at the table and proceeded to sit down.

Jared bit into a cookie and stopped dead for a moment. Then he began to chew, eyelashes fluttering as he swallowed.

"So what are you guys doing?" Crystal asked, looking around at all the books.

"It's kind of a long story," Jensen said, hedging. He wasn't sure how much they should tell her, not to mention that he was a little annoyed that she'd just shown up without being invited.

"We could use help," Jared said, looking at Jensen, his eyes asking a silent question.

Jared wasn't wrong. Xae was a huge help to have on their side, but she had her own life and her responsibilities to the Coalescence. Lex couldn't have cared less about their problems and he was evil and unreliable, besides. Jensen had his misgivings about bringing in someone new, but Crystal seemed nice enough, and she certainly seemed to have free time on her hands.

"Do you really want in on this?" Jensen asked, eyeing her. "You can still go back to your life and pretend this never happened. If you stay here, if you get involved, it's going to be dangerous for you."

Crystal frowned at him, her perfectly shaped brows drawing together. "Dangerous how?" 

"I've almost died three times in the last week, for starters." 

Crystal folded her hands together on the table, regarding him seriously. "Like for _real_ almost died? Because I knew people in LA who 'almost died' like five times a _day_ because something didn't go their way— _total_ drama queens, oh my god, couldn't use the word 'literally' correctly in a sentence if you _paid_ them—is that the kind of 'almost died' you mean? Or do you mean actually literally?" 

"I mean literally."

She nodded, seeming to think about that for a long moment. Alicia and Jared were watching her just as intently as Jensen was.

"Can you teach me how to use my abilities? How to defend myself?" she asked, and the question caught Jensen off guard.

"Maybe," he said, honest. "We're still learning a lot about that, ourselves." 

"So I'm getting in on the ground level," she said, musing. She took a breath then and drew her shoulders up, scooting closer to the table with her chair. "Okay. Lay it on me. Start at the beginning and don't leave anything out, and then I'll decide." 

Jensen closed his book and laid it down, scooting closer to the table, himself. He didn't dare tell her about his unique abilities, or the secret locked inside his mind, but he told her all the rest: his Valkyrie abilities, the doors, Xae, Lex, the kelpie and the Twice-Born, the old gods, the Coalescence and the library, all the things they had discovered. When, at last, he had finished, she was looking at him with wide eyes.

"And this is all true? No bullshit?" she asked, looking at Jared and Alicia.

"It's the truth as we know it right now, anyway," Alicia replied. "Might change tomorrow though, the way things go around here."

Crystal pulled her elbows closer toward her body, fingers interlaced, seeming to think.

"And then there's the fact…" Jensen hesitated, unsure how to say what he meant without being insulting. "Crystal, you're a Selkie. According to the books, that means you're an excellent swimmer with good direction sense and a nearly perfect memory. You're a little bit stronger than the average human, can take a little more damage and heal faster, but you're not exactly a fighter."

She arched a brow at him. "That's more than Jared's got going for him," she pointed out. "No offense," she added as an aside to Jared. "Besides, I've got something else going for me that isn't in those books at all."

"Such as?" Jensen asked, confused.

"A business degree and a can do attitude." She flashed Jensen a wide grin. "So, I'll run the club—it's almost like kismet, right?—and help with the book studying. That frees Jared up to study full time and figure out how to work these doors, plus I can learn more about this whole Legacy thing with the rest of you." 

Jensen opened his mouth to speak and found himself momentarily wordless.

"Wait." Jared shook his head, sitting fully upright in his seat. "You're saying you _want_ to manage the club?"

"I'm good at it," she said, simply, raising one shoulder. "I'll send you my resume if you want," she added with a wink at Jared.

Jensen was still speechless, and he looked over at Jared to see how Jared was taking things.

Jared's mouth worked for a moment, and then he said, "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't occurred to me earlier. Jensen doesn't work here, I _do_ have a ton to do and Alicia would be running this place right now if she _wanted_ the job." Jared nodded slowly. "It does make sense. If you're sure."

"Good." Crystal nodded. "Then it's settled. You'll have to train me into the rhythm of the club. We'll have to go over the specifics—the inventory ins and outs, the DJs, the staff, the books, all those things—but this is going to be _fun_."

"You're just… you're just going to hire her?" Jensen asked.

"I already know more about her than most people I interview for jobs here." Jared rubbed a hand along his jaw, looking sidelong at Jensen.

Jensen looked to Alicia to be the voice of reason, but Alicia just lifted her shoulders, saying, "Not my club."

"Great!" Crystal smiled, rubbing her hands together. "Now, someone pass me a book."

Jensen closed his mouth, took a breath, and handed her a book.

  


*    *    *  
  


A few more stacks of books and two hours later, they found some of the warding symbols they'd been searching for. They mixed together all the ingredients on the bar while from outside came the sound of hammering and drilling as the new door leading to the apartments was installed.

They moved with uncertainty at first, painting symbols and muttering Latin that caused the symbols to disappear inside the doors and walls, and then slowly with more purpose, first layer of protection completed inside the club by mid-afternoon. They moved on to the new doors installed in the apartment area, warding those with rudimentary protection as well, finally finishing up around the time Jared, Alicia and Crystal needed to start getting the club ready for the night.

Alone together in the library, Jensen took Jared's hands in his, looking up into those hazel eyes. "Are you sure about her running this place?"

"Are you not?" Jared returned, meeting his gaze with curiosity. 

Jensen shrugged, uncertain of what it was that was bothering him. "I guess we'll find out. Doesn't it… doesn't it seem a little convenient to you?"

"Like kismet" Jared said, imitating Crystal's upbeat tone without mocking it. His smile faded after a moment, and he regarded Jensen seriously. "What are you thinking?"

Well, he had been thinking about Crystal, but with Jared looking at him like that, he was beginning to have other thoughts. Jensen forced himself to focus. "I don't know." He shook his head, some unknown sense still nagging at him, and then let it go. "Did you look at her resume yet?"

"I will. But it'll be obvious pretty quickly whether or not she knows how to run a club once we start working together tonight."

"Speaking of work, I haven't worked in over a week. _I_ might need a job soon," Jensen commented, half joking.

"Say the word." Jared smiled and leaned in.

Jensen closed the distance between them, lips and tongue meeting Jared's in a long, sweet swirl of a kiss. Afterward, Jared took a step back, dug into his pocket and pulled out a keyring with several keys dangling from it.

"Here," Jared said. "The new keys to the front door and your apartment. There's also a key to the club doors in case you need to get in."

Jensen took the key ring, frowning at it slightly before he held it up. "That's three keys. There are four on here."

"Yeah. The other one is the key to my apartment."

For a moment Jensen was surprised, but he decided it probably seemed more serious than it actually was. They lived right across the hall from each other, after all, and with everything going on, it just made sense for him to be able to access everything in the buildings.

"Thanks," Jensen said, giving Jared a smile.

The smile Jared gave him in return was wide and brilliant, and Jensen leaned in to kiss him again.

Afterward, Jensen went through the new door that opened to the apartment stairs. It was absolutely generic, painted with a single, dark layer of red paint, a brass colored mail slot its only adornment. As he went up the stairs, he pulled out his burner phone, thinking to himself that it might be time to get an actual permanent phone, and checked his messages.

There was a single message from Xae that read: _"We think she's hiding in the Umbra"_

Jensen pushed his phone back in his pocket and unlocked the new door on his apartment, thoughtful. There was almost no question Xae had been referring to the Twice-Born in her text. He wasn't sure what Xae had intended him to do with that information, but he did recall that he'd seen the Umbra mentioned in the book he'd been reading last night.

Jensen went to his room, picking up 'An Explanation of the Planes' from the table beside his bed. After he discarded his boots, Jensen laid down on the bed on his stomach, pillow beneath his chest, upper body propped on his elbows as he opened the book and turned to the page indicated by the table of contents.

_The Umbra is an interesting if extremely perilous layer. It appears to be the shadow cast by the Prime itself, existing beneath the weave like an inverted reflection, the yin to its yang. Some theorize that this is what is referred to in modern Greek mythology as the underworld, and perhaps what Christianity refers to as Hell._

_Within this ever-shifting plane, there are certainly creatures that could be classified as demons or spirits, the landscape itself seeming to be alive with dark sentience. It is a realm comprised of smoke and shadow that reflects the world above, but its exact features seem to change based on the individual experiencing it. Those who have ventured there report experiencing nightmares fueled by fears pulled directly from their minds as well as encountering nightmarish creatures who exist there in their own right._

_Perhaps the most interesting thing about the Umbra is that Legacies can manifest their power and form in the flesh with as much ease as if they were in the Meridian. Unlike the Astral, Meridian and the Drift, this plane cannot be visited by the living in spiritual form, requiring the individual to access it in the flesh via a portal. Whether or not the dead can visit it in spiritual form is an intriguing question that remains unanswered. Certainly, some subjects report having seen dead relatives or lovers within this plane, but it is unknown if these were truly their spirits or were simply visions induced by the realm itself._

"Not exactly Disneyland," he muttered aloud.

The book went on about the plane in more detail, and the information provided didn't get any better. It seemed that a lot of people died in the Umbra, some from heart failure brought on by fear, others at the hands of the creatures that inhabited it. Jensen thought it was a perfect place for something like the Twice-Born to hide. She likely had nothing to fear from the Umbra, but anyone coming in after her would have to deal with the realm itself, and if that didn't kill them, they still had her to contend with. 

Jensen put the book back on his night stand, eyeing the Kindle that lay there next to the stack of leather-bound books. After a moment's consideration, he reached for it hesitantly and flipped open the cover, turning on the power. Navigating the internet on it was a bit clunky since he had to use an app for Google search, but it was manageable. His fingertips hovered over the keyboard on the screen, eyes locked on the blinking cursor in the search bar, and then he began to type.

There weren't many search results under the actual name of Nikki Fortune, and the ones that did turn up seemed to be for people that were alive and well. There were no missing person reports or obituaries that he could find. It had been ten years, but the internet had been in full swing even then—maybe her disappearance had never made digital news.

Maybe it was just as well, he thought as he closed the cover on his Kindle. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know the details about her life. It was difficult enough, knowing he had killed her.

He pushed the Kindle aside and rolled over onto his back, head resting against the pillow, arms folded across his chest. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to remember her face, and finally his eyelids began to droop, falling shut after a brief struggle.

For a moment, he thought he was in the Umbra. The sky above was filled with dark clouds, gray against black that matched the smoking ruin of the landscape. Then he saw the gaping holes that were ripped through them, the monstrously huge shadows that moved within, mere hints of creatures so large Jensen could scarcely imagine them, scaly tails and sharp claws and hissing laughter.

The old gods had come at last, and Jensen had paved the way. He was in the Prime.

"Come on," Jared said with eagerness, tugging at Jensen's hand like a child excited by the promise of cotton candy and popcorn at the circus. "I want to see!"

Jensen followed without question as Jared slipped his fingers through Jensen's and led Jensen onward. Ahead, in the foreground of the blasted landscape, a huge sign loomed, bright yellow and luminescent in the darkness, so bright it was like a beacon. It curved in the shape of an "A", so large it seemed to reach up and touch the dark clouds that roiled above their heads. Beneath its intimidating height were tiny words, white letters printed across a long red rectangle that marked the end of the bright yellow light. Jensen squinted, and could just make out the shape of them.

"Billions and Billions Dead" and beneath that, "Please Drive Thru".

He took a sharp breath, and looked up at the letter "A" again, understanding on some intrinsic level that it stood for "Apocalypse", and this time, he glimpsed a body hung from the inside apex of the "A". The corpse twisted in the wind, suspended upside down by one foot, and though he couldn't see from here, he knew it was a Legacy, its body misshapen, wrecked by massive power. By his own hand.

"You're going to miss it," Jared said and pulled at his hand again.

They stood before a speaker with a large billboard spread out behind it. The names of dead Legacies and humans were printed across it in deep red that dripped like blood, each one a glaring accusation; Rajeet, Charisma, Tenth, Nikki, Crystal, Lex, Xae… Alicia. Every single one of them was there, the list of names he carried in his head, each person he had killed.

A demonic voice croaked over the loudspeaker, like a bellow straight out of hell. "Take your order please?"

"Yes," Jared said with an excited smile. "I'd like to order a death with a side of betrayal." 

"You want that with cheese?" the demon asked, sounding incredibly bored.

"Yes, please," Jared said, and he trembled with anticipation. He looked at Jensen and gave him a secretive grin filled with confidence. "This is the best part." He squeezed Jensen's hand, and Jensen looked down—

And watched as the skin of Jared's fingers withered and turned green, tips of bone sticking out like fingernails. In the strange yellow light, he could see the gleam on each point as they dug into his flesh, squeezing his hand so hard he felt the bones crack.

He gasped and looked up at Jared—and the rotting corpse of Jared's body grinned back at him. Red-orange eyes glowed with feral bloodlust, and his face split in a grin too wide for any human countenance, lips curled back in a snarling mask like a wolf's. Blood dripped from his mouth in streaming rivulets that coursed down his clothing and turned it black as the world around them.

"This is the best part," Jared said, tongue rotting in his mouth even as he spoke. "This is the part where you kill me."

Jared's hand tightened, blood rushing cold in Jensen's veins, and to his horror, Jensen lashed out, fist passing through Jared's skull like an overripe grapefruit and stilling him forever.

Jensen fell to his knees and screamed—

"Jensen!"

Rough hands grabbed him by the shoulders as he sat bolt upright in bed, and he thrashed for a moment, panicking.

"Jensen! Jensen. It's me, it's Jared. You're okay."

The words penetrated the red haze of Jensen's mind and he stopped struggling, blinking as he realized where he was. Jared's hands fell away from his shoulders and Jensen focused on him, checking to make sure he was real, that his skin was still pink and healthy. 

"Must have been one hell of a nightmare," Jared remarked, his voice quiet.

Jensen flexed his right hand, still feeling the pressure of the bony tips of dream-Jared's fingers, the whole nightmare still too vivid, too real.

" _Are_ … you okay?" Jared asked, tilting his head as he regarded Jensen.

"No," Jensen whispered. Then he reached out and pulled Jared in, lips meeting his in a frantic kiss.

Jared's mouth opened for him, wet and eager and breathing out hard through his nose. Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared's shoulders and squeezed him close, pulling Jared's weight down on top of him. Hard, muscular length of Jared's body pressed against his, mouth hot and kissing Jensen back just as desperately as Jensen was kissing him, like neither one of them could get enough. Jensen let go of Jared long enough to rip his shirt over his head, Jared doing the same before they fell back into each other, Jared kissing down into him, and Jensen savored the taste of him, faint impression of alcohol and something sweet before he sucked it from Jared's tongue.

"God, Jensen. I want you," Jared breathed out heavily, planting wet kisses against Jensen's lower lip, his chin, tongue lashing out to sweep across the line of Jensen's lips.

Jensen made an affirmative sound and rolled him over against the bed, feeling that long, beautiful body underneath him, cock hard and aligned against Jensen's through their jeans. Jensen made his way down Jared's gorgeously sculpted chest, licking, nipping and kissing tanned skin until he reached the waistline of Jared's pants, tongue licking just beneath the material. His fingers worked deftly, undoing Jared's button and zipper, dragging the jeans and Jared's underwear down over his hips, shoes tossed away in a rush before he tugged Jared's pants free.

Their first time had been slow and sweet; this was urgent, fervent, needy and messy. Jensen wasted no time kicking out of his own jeans, climbing back up Jared until they were touching chest to hip, Jared wrapping his long legs around Jensen's waist. Jensen ground his hips down, eyelids fluttering with pleasure at the feel of his cock dragging against Jared's, hot, velvety skin, and Jared hissed in a breath, body rising to meet Jensen's thrust.

"Feel so good," Jared breathed out in a rush, fingers running through the strands of Jensen's hair and curling lightly there.

Jensen reached for the night table, pulling out the lube, his eyes locked on Jared's with intense heat as he opened the lid and let the thick liquid drip over his fingers. He set the lube back on the table, dipping his head to kiss Jared again and lifting his hips, slick fingertips riding down the center of Jared's ass, teasing at the hole. Jared moaned into his mouth, body thrusting upward into Jensen's touch, and Jensen eased the tip of two fingers inside, feeling Jared jolt against the bed as he breached the opening.

He moved his fingers in little circles, feeling Jared whimper and groan, and then in and out with shallow thrusts. His angle made it impossible to go too deep, but it didn't matter, Jared so wound up already and ready for him, fingers crooking and curling. His fingers pulled free, Jared moaning with the loss, and Jensen kissed him to hush him.

"Don't worry, gonna give you something even better," Jensen promised.

He reached for the nightstand again and pulled out a condom, regretful that he had to break contact long enough to sit back and smooth it down the length of his dick. He slicked his cock with his fist, hips shivering at the sensation, and then he leaned down, getting his arms underneath Jared's legs, elbows sliding up under Jared's knees and catching as he moved his body up between.

He wriggled his hips, pushing the crown inside, groaning uncontrollably as he felt the searing crush of Jared's body clamp down just under the head of his cock. His forehead crashed into Jared's as he pushed off from his toes, hips curving up under his body as he thrust, sinking all the way to the bottom.

Jared shuddered and jumped like a live wire underneath him, hissing out a string of four-letter words, his fingers splaying wide against the air before they clamped down on Jensen's shoulders. Jensen dragged backward, twisting his hips as he slammed into Jared again, Jared's whole body shivering and shuddering. His hands left Jensen's shoulders, reaching up, fingers twining around the wooden bars of the headboard and clutching tight.

"God yeah, fuck me, Jensen." Jared's eyes were eating Jensen up with heat and want, half-lidded and wanton, lips kissed dark pink, corner caught between his pearly white teeth.

Jensen tilted Jared's hips upward with his arms, elbows still caught beneath Jared's knees, and drove straight down into him, curling his hips to hit Jared's prostate on the way down, and he took Jared just like that, fucking into him with long, hard, jagged thrusts, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep from coming. Jared looked so amazingly hot, writhing and twisted up with pleasure as he gazed unabashedly at Jensen, the clutch of his inner muscles almost too much for Jensen to bear as he see-sawed his hips in and out with merciless thrusts.

He gave one last twist of his hips and then let go of Jared's legs, needing to feel more of Jared pressed against him, chest sliding up Jared's belly until it was flush against Jared's, mouth claiming Jared's in a hungry kiss as he got his hands on Jared's waist, holding Jared's lower body still as he kept fucking into Jared. Their bodies slipped and slid against each other, sweat and Jared's pre-come wettening the way and Jensen rolled his belly against Jared's cock with each downward thrust, feeling Jared begin to shake and quiver beneath him.

"F-fuck, Jensen. G-gonna come," Jared stuttered out the words, one hand sliding sloppily across Jensen's cheek.

"That's the plan," Jensen hummed, eyes devouring the ecstasy on Jared's face.

He dug his toes into the mattress, shoving off even harder as he pounded into Jared, spine rippling like a snake, belly dragging across Jared's cock with sweet friction until Jared's eyes went wide, fingers going white-knuckled around the wooden bar of the bed. Jensen let go of Jared's waist with one hand, fingers gripping Jared's cock and tugging, pulling, dragging in time with his relentless strokes, headboard slamming against the wall with the force. 

Jared froze, stiffening around him, inner muscles clamping down like a vise, and then his spine contracted, body locking down solid as he came, shooting pearly slick between their bellies, all the way up their chests, his mouth open in a cry of soundless pleasure. Jensen snapped his hips downward and felt his whole body begin to tingle, skin beginning to shimmer in the Meridian before it burst into flame, wings unfurling with a sudden flap as heat coiled in his belly, Jared's muscles convulsing and squeezing his cock, sensation exquisite. He didn't have time to be startled, barely took note of the change as his fist flexed around Jared's dick, other hand grasping Jared's shoulder as he fucked into Jared even harder, eyes rolling up and back in his head as he came.

Jared's body rose to meet him, ragged, graceless thrusts, Jensen grinding down into Jared's body and letting go of his dick, palm pressed flat against Jared's belly as he twisted his hips, face crashing downward, lips falling against Jared's, mouths meeting in hot tangle. Jared's arms came up around his body, holding Jensen close, and Jensen distantly felt his wings curl close around them. Jared milked him with every thrust, cock pulsing with intense pleasure, and Jensen lost all sense of rhythm, grinding into Jared and coming so hard he nearly saw stars, nails digging trenches into Jared's skin.

He began to slow, last bursts of pleasure drawn out of him, short shivering bursts of his hips until he lay still, body pressed against Jared's, slack and breathing hard. Belatedly, he noticed his wings had folded down against their sides, closing around them almost protectively, and Jared reached out, stroking the apex of one, fingers gliding along the joint, eyes filled with wonder. Jensen shuddered as another jolt of pleasure shot through his lower belly, cock pulsing out one last weak spurt.

"I don't know why that..." Jensen managed, embarrassed by his reaction. "I'm sorry."

Jared withdrew his hand, reaching for Jensen's chin and pulling him into a kiss.

"Don't be. You are so beautiful," Jared breathed before his mouth slotted against Jensen's, opening to kiss Jensen deeply and thoroughly.

They lay there, kissing for a long time, languid and sweaty and pressed tight together until Jensen's cock began to soften. He broke the kiss with the intention of circling his fingers around the base of his dick to hold the condom in place while he pulled out, but Jared stopped him, reaching out to take Jensen by his wrist. He lifted Jensen's hand close to his face, turned his cheek against Jensen's inner wrist and then pressed a kiss there before he looked Jensen in the eye.

"I love you," Jared whispered.

Jensen knew it was true, but it still seemed difficult to believe, and he shook his head, returning Jared's look with wonder.

"Sometimes I think you shouldn't," Jensen breathed back and dipped down to kiss Jared once more. Even if what he felt for Jared turned out to be love, he had no right to feel it, to say it. He had no right to bind Jared to him when Jared didn't know the full truth about Jensen.

Jensen drew back to look at Jared, and there, both of them wrapped in the shelter of his wings, it was on the tip of Jensen's tongue to tell Jared everything, to let his final secret come spilling out and share his fears. For just an instant it was right there, Jensen feeling poised on the edge of a cliff, about to jump. And then he pulled back, remembering how much danger it would put Jared in if he knew. The Twice-Born wouldn't have hesitated to destroy Jared in her quest to rip the knowledge out of Jensen's head. The only thing keeping any of them safe right now was that no one besides Xae and Jensen knew he _had_ the secret.

Regretful, he bit down against his lower lip, and Jared just smiled at him, reaching up to stroke his hand along Jensen's cheek.

"It's okay," Jared assured him, and Jensen had to blink, ashamed as he looked aside.

"It really isn't," Jensen contradicted.

"You don't get to decide how I feel," Jared chided gently, fingertip lighting beneath Jensen's chin, rubbing back and forth until Jensen's eyes returned to look at him.

"Even I didn't get to decide how I feel. This isn't a choice for me," Jared said, still smiling. "But I'm glad it happened."

Jensen thought of the way he'd killed Nikki, of the dark, plane-torn world in his dreams and the reality that could so easily come to pass. The way he'd so coldly put his fist through Jared's head.

"I just hope you're never sorry," Jensen confessed, emotion rising in his chest.

"Never happen." Jared seemed so sure, so confident. 

Jared grinned and Jensen had to kiss him again, had to close his eyes against Jared's faith to keep it from hurting his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

They spent several days in relative peace and quiet. Xae came by to take a look at the work they were doing in warding the doors and the club itself and gave them some pointers. Crystal had taken over running things from Jared and so far it had gone well—she was even starting to grow on Jensen. Alicia joined Jared, Jensen and Crystal with reading in the afternoons and kept serving drinks as usual at night. Jared and Jensen spent a lot of hours reading alone together, both in their rooms and in the library, in varying states of dress depending on where they were, and sometimes reading turned into much more intimate activities.

There was some discussion about setting up a training room: Alicia wanted to practice with her bow, and although she and Jared both knew some form of martial arts, they all needed more physical training. There was discussion, but ultimately Jared wasn't sure how they'd manage it. He wasn't anywhere near being able to figure out how the Legacy doors worked, much less being able to direct them to open to a place they'd still need to build and stock. Xae offered to help with their training in the future, and Jared mentioned that they could make use of the open club side to do it in.

Nikki Fortune's imagined face haunted Jensen at idle moments, or deep in the night when Jared lay sleeping next to him, and he kept himself as busy as he could. He confirmed there was no way to plug in anything in the library, but discovered Jared's laptop kept its battery power at full forever as long as it was in the room, and it seemed to pick up wi-fi from the bar easily enough. In the library, there was also an ancient, black rotary phone that didn't plug into anything, sitting like a shiny beetle carapace on one of the side shelves. Jared had joked that it was the Batphone and Jensen and Alicia had laughed. Still, it struck Jensen as odd; why have a phone if it couldn't plug into anything?

There was also a gramophone in the library, complete with wind up power. Its horn rose a copper-colored antique flower, interesting, symmetrical designs etched into the inside. The wood was mahogany and the crank had an ivory handle. There was a shelf of records amongst all the books, albums taken from their original sleeves and put into leather binders that protected them, so they could be leafed through like the pages of a book. Jared fell in love with the gramophone immediately, and whenever he was in the library, there was always music playing. Usually it was music from the 60's and 70's, but sometimes it was timeless, classical music.

Jensen finally went to Rajeet's table one morning and worked doing Tarot and palm readings. It was getting colder, and Rajeet said he would be closing up shop for the winter soon. When they shut down for the day, Rajeet said he hoped he would see Jensen before his last day—although he didn't call Jensen 'Jensen', or even 'Jack'. He'd been calling Jensen 'Blue' ever since Jensen had dyed his hair.

Dark was drawing near although it was only 6PM, and Jensen returned to his apartment to find Jared on his bed, sprawled out on the aqua and orange comforter as if he owned it (and Jensen supposed he did, after all), propped up on his elbows, surrounded by books, Rolodex off to one side, notebook in front of him, pen held between his lips, one hand gripping his hair to hold it back from his face. He was bare from his hips up, faded jeans seeming to barely hang onto him at all. The line of his spine curved and dipped between exquisitely defined musculature, lamp light thrown across it in dramatic contrast of soft yellow and shadow, and his ass was tilted at a delicious upward angle, the upper swell of it just visible above the edge of his jeans. 

Jensen stopped in the doorway, admiring the scenery. "You are the hottest history nerd ever," he proclaimed.

Jared looked up and pulled his hand from his hair, then grabbed the pen from his mouth before he smiled at Jensen. "Quite the picture, huh?" Jared asked, like he knew exactly what he looked like, and arched his back a little more.

Jensen laughed and rolled his eyes, pretending to be unaffected.

Jared grinned and scooted over, then shoved a few books closer to the corner of the bed to make room for Jensen. Jensen walked into the room, working out of his motorcycle jacket and tossing it on the chair in the corner. He took a minute to get his boots off, switched his faded concert t-shirt for a long-sleeved, Sandman comic book shirt, and then he fell in alongside Jared.

On their bellies, they were pressed together shoulder to thigh, pleasant warmth of Jared sinking into Jensen's still chilly bones as Jared began to speak.

"So, I've been doing some reading through Pop Pop's journals, trying to figure out why he never told me about any of this." Jared flipped through one leatherbound account about two-thirds of the way and stopped, beginning to read from the handwritten page.

"A Seer from the Coalescence stopped for a drink today on her way between destinations. I made her a bourbon, neat, and she told me as she twisted up a drink napkin that she'd had a vision. She said there was darkness coming, a war between Legacies, that one would emerge who would be either Savior or Destroyer. I could tell just by the way she said it those words were in capital letters. And then she said something I'll never forget, "In the echo you will find the answer". The answer to what?, I asked, but she didn't seem to know."

Jared turned the page and continued reading. "I wouldn't have thought much of it, but then Nala came by. One of the best precogs the Coalescence has, and she told me she'd seen the same thing. Told me in almost exactly the same words."

"That's all he says about that," Jared notes, "but then he goes on: Business here never was as good as I'd hoped, and the Legacies passing through don't pay much. If there's a war coming, it may be time to close down this hub. Shut down the doors for good and move my business out to Northern Virginia. Maybe it's time this family lived a normal life." Jared stopped reading and looked over at Jensen. "He goes on a bit more about moving the business and getting away from the Legacies, but that's the gist."

"In the echo, you will find the answer," Jensen said, musing aloud.

"Yeah. I haven't found any other references to that yet. But at least now I know why he never told me about any of this."

"He didn't want you involved in the Legacy life because it was going to get dangerous." A dark bubble of laughter erupted from Jensen's chest. "Hell, it's already dangerous and we're not even into a war yet."

"Maybe the war won't happen," Jared said with a shrug as he closed the book.

"Ever the optimist," Jensen said, and couldn't help smiling.

"This was written almost thirty years ago."

Jared had a point, but Jensen couldn't quiet the cynic inside him. "And yet he started teaching you languages."

"He always did love language. But maybe he wanted me to be prepared in case something happened one day."

"So do you?" Jensen asked, looking at him sidelong and arching a brow. "Feel prepared?"

"Not even a little," Jared said and sighed, eyeing the books around them.

"Yeah, me neither," Jensen agreed. "Tell you what I do feel though." He turned on his side and reached out, fingertips trailing along Jared's cheek as he steeled himself. Jared turned his face and Jensen leaned in, kissing him slow, arms sliding around Jared's shoulders as Jared moved on his side, body slotting up snugly against Jensen's as Jensen deepened the kiss, tongue swirling around Jared's and suckling lightly. Jared pushed his hips forward, cock hard and rutting against Jensen's thigh and Jensen made a muffled sound of approval into Jared's mouth.

"Hey, Jense—" Alicia's voice broke off just as suddenly as it had begun.

Jensen and Jared drew back from each other, craning their heads to look toward the bedroom doorway. Alicia stood there in her work shirt and jeans, hands on her hips as she stared at them.

"What?" Jensen demanded. "And don't you knock anymore?"

"Not when it's this important," she assured them.

"This is what you get for not knocking," Jared said in a breezy, you-should-have-known-better tone.

"I'm just glad I got here before you got naked. You two need to get downstairs. We need help setting up."

Neither Jensen nor Jared moved an inch.

"Isn't Crystal helping?" Jared asked.

"You forgot, didn't you?" she asked, seeming unsurprised. "It's DJ Keys' birthday, we're doing a party night theme? Remember?"

"Oh," Jared said and made a hissing sound of regret. "I did forget. Sorry. But you guys can handle it, right?"

Alicia walked into the room and grabbed a bed pillow from the floor, throwing it at their faces. "Get up before I get the firehose."

They heaved a sigh in unison and started disentangling themselves.  
  


*    *    *  


A few hours later, the club was in full swing, decorated to the nines, music pumping, bodies dancing and lights flashing, the bar fully stocked and the kitchen rolling. Jensen checked the hoses on the CO2 cylinder under the bar one last time and then adjusted the knobs like Alicia had told him. He tapped her on the shoulder to inspect it when he was done, and after she checked and nodded her approval, he made his way out from behind the bar.

He was on the club side and the music was extremely loud though not unpleasant. Jensen had never paid much attention to the club music before—he usually only experienced the thumping of the bass—but he had to admit he was enjoying it. After his ability to see memories had kicked in, dancing had always seemed like it would be a nightmare experience, bumping and jostling into strangers, but he'd enjoyed it when he was younger. The crowd seemed to like the music as well, and the dance floor was packed full of people, a lot of them wearing neon necklaces and bracelets in hues of pink, green and blue that thrashed and flowed with their individual rhythms.

There were a lot of people generating body heat and Jensen was almost too warm inside his jacket. He was still wearing the long-sleeved shirt he'd put on earlier, so he shrugged free of the leather and tucked it behind one corner of the bar on a shelf. He looked around through the sea of people and spotted Jared not far from where he stood. Jared was standing at the bar with a drink and Jensen walked up from behind him, sliding his arms around Jared's waist. Jared downed his drink, ice clinking loud enough that Jensen could hear it above the music, and then he turned around in Jensen's embrace.

From his front pants pocket, Jared tugged free a handful of neon necklaces and bracelets, snapping them to activate the glow, and then proceeded to fasten and drape them on Jensen and himself. When he was done, Jared's eyes raked up and down Jensen's form appreciatively before he leaned in close, having to talk loudly to be heard. "Crystal's running things. I was thinking maybe you and I could have some fun."

Jensen leaned in closer, one corner of his mouth quirking in a grin. "Yeah?" he asked, fingers curling in the hem of Jared's shirt. "You wanna go upstairs?"

"Dance floor first," Jared said with an answering grin.

Jensen eyed the writhing, pulsating mass of flesh on the dance floor with apprehension.

"We deserve some fun. You can bring out your Valkyrie. Come on, Jensen, live a little," Jared coaxed, smiling at him.

Being in Valkyrie form did suppress the ability to see people's memories unless he tried to, and Jared made a good point: they did deserve some fun. He wasn't sure if he could dance at all anymore, but for Jared he was willing to try. Jensen looked at Jared a moment longer, pretending to debate, and then he called on his Valkyrie power, flame igniting along his bones in the Meridian, wings snapping out from his back and unfurling with a flap.

"I probably shouldn't find that as sexy as I do," Jared confided in a grinning whisper.

Jensen smirked and focused as he curled a wing inward, stroking a wingtip feather along Jared's cheek. It was difficult, and it took a great deal of concentration to perform a movement that fine, but the resulting smile on Jared's face made it worth the effort. 

"Play your cards right, this could all be yours," Jensen said, motioning at himself with one of his wings as he echoed Jared's words from weeks ago.

Jared laughed and leaned to kiss him. Sweet, hot press of his lips to Jensen's and then he drew back, still smiling as he whispered, "I love you."

The kiss and the words left Jensen momentarily breathless, and before he could say anything, Jared slipped a finger through one of Jensen's belt loops and led him onto the dance floor.

The music was some kind of trance/house mix, and Jared's hips were already swaying as they moved into the crowd. Smoke rose up from machines on the floor, obscuring their legs, catching the blue lights in the ceiling above, and Jared didn't take them too far in before he stopped, beginning to dance. Jensen watched him for a moment, and then moved experimentally with Jared, catching the rhythm of his hips. He stepped closer, putting one leg between Jared's and straddling Jared's thigh as they began to move in tandem.

Beams of pink and blue light cut through the smoky dance floor, green flowing over Jared's face for a moment as the beat rose and swelled, bodies pulsing with heat and sweat. Squares of colored, metallic confetti rained down, pink and gold catching in Jared's hair. Jensen chuckled, wrapped his arms around Jared's shoulders, and blew a square of blue away from his lips before he kissed Jared, their hips swaying and circling in time together.

Energy bubbled beneath Jensen's skin, warm and fuzzy like champagne, scent, feel and sight of Jared filling his senses, deep warmth in his chest like radiance. The beat galloped toward a crescendo, and they both went with it, riding it like a stallion as they moved, grinding together. Jensen's blood buzzed, every nerve alive, hyper-aware of everywhere Jared was touching him. He met those hazel eyes with his own, their color tinted blue under the club light, and he felt…

Something… like he was about to vibrate right out his skin.

The music spiraled higher, beat thrumming in Jensen's bones.

Like he couldn't contain himself…

The air around them seemed to twist and arc with electricity, confetti caught in the current.

Like he needed to do... something…

_Boom boom boomboomboomboomboomboom_

Something…

The bass dropped with concussive force and—

_Something was coming._

Reality split open with a deafening roar, violent wind rushing to fill the room, and a woman's body came flying through the tear, careening through the air above the crowd before she hit the wall and crumpled like a broken doll, sliding to the floor.

Jensen stopped cold, blood curdling and turning to ice in his veins, Valkyrie flickering and fading out as time itself seemed to slow. All around him, most of the crowd was continuing to dance, thrashing and pulsing to the beat, too drunk or too caught up to notice the ones who panicked, beginning to push from the dance floor. Squares of confetti swirled in angry eddies around the opening torn in the world, threads of reality dripping from the edges, their ends still burning, and Jensen knew with absolute certainty, with complete and utter dread what lay on the other side—what was about to push itself through the opening like being birthed.

The fire alarm screamed, blinding flashes of white light erupting from the ceiling, and time caught up. People thrust and shoved past him in their hurry to get to the exit, most of them so focused on escaping that they didn't pause to notice the gaping hole in reality hanging seven feet above the floor. The music came to a sudden stop, and Jensen moved, fighting against the tide of people, deeper into the club to where the woman had fallen.

The lights flashed like a camera taking overexposed snapshots of her again and again; dark and bright, dark and bright. She was pale and frail where she lay against the floor, limbs twisted and splayed at unnatural angles. Her head was turned in the wrong direction, her eyes wide open, fixed and glassy, and Jensen recoiled from the sight, frantic for a moment until he realized he didn't recognize her. Panic flew past him like an ungainly bird, but he was still rooted to the floor, shock burrowing deep into his bones, one hand clapped to his mouth. 

She was almost certainly dead—she had to be—but Jensen didn't see an aura around her, no angry red and black energy, and so he ran to her, sliding across the wooden floor on his knees the last few feet to get there faster. Beneath the lights flashing like strobes, he reached out, hesitant, and then touched her throat. He could _feel_ the broken wrongness inside, knew she'd been dead on impact if not before, but still he searched for her pulse. He found nothing. Her skin was still warm, and his fingertips stuck to the thin line of blood there before they peeled away. 

"Jensen!"

Around him, the world was still chaos, fire alarm blaring, wind ripping and tearing at his clothes, his hair. He turned in the direction of his name to see Jared's face, too pale and terrified. Jensen leapt to his feet and ran, grabbing Jared by the forearms and swinging him around, away from the portal.

"Stay back!" he shouted.

Fire burst forth from his skin, wings extending with a snap, and for the first time, he felt it inside, molten anger scouring his veins as he reached within himself, pushed roughly past his organs and dragged his sword free.

Something moved beside him and he spun, sword clanging as it met the metal bracer on Alicia's arm in the Meridian. They stared at each other for a moment through the cross of his sword and her forearm, and Jensen saw nothing of fear in her eyes—saw nothing but determination and agreement.

The fire alarm ceased its ringing. The emergency lights continued to flash. They both lowered their arms and turned.

The portal didn't crackle with energy, it _oozed_ at the edges like a wound. Tendrils of reality dripped from it in strange, pulsing colors. Around them, napkins and receipts spun, catching and chasing through the wind, confetti flew like a rainbow snowstorm, horribly out of place.

Another body came hurtling through the portal and Alicia moved to intercept it, absorbing the impact as she wrapped her arms around the person and braced her legs. The force knocked her backward and sent them both into a tangle of limbs that tumbled past Jensen. Jensen distantly felt the urge to help them, but he didn't dare take his eyes off the portal.

The Twice-Born rushed through the opening ripped in the world like a tempest, red hair whipping furiously in the wind, pale white dress billowing. Her chin was pressed against her chest, piercing orange-red eyes staring up from underneath her brow, hands outstretched from her sides, tips of her toes dragging the floor. She barreled past Jensen like a bullet from a gun and Jensen lifted his sword up over his shoulder, body spinning in a quick semi-circle as he brought it down, blade cleaving her above her hip bone and cutting downward through her pelvis.

She screamed, an inhuman screech that made Jensen's ears want to bleed and spun on him so fast he didn't have time to pull his sword free. She seemed completely oblivious to the silver, flaming tip that protruded six inches from her abdomen and the ragged cut that went at least that deep through muscle, organ, and tissue. 

Everything happening in flashbulb pops, she regarded him.

"Valkyrie." The word left her with condemnation and derision, her voice guttural and choked with a dead, thick sound that made Jensen think of grave dirt. Her eyes narrowed on him, and in the Meridian, the dark goat head on her left shoulder opened its foul, rotting mouth, electricity spewing forth in a gout.

Jensen yanked to the side so hard he nearly overbalanced, electricity sizzling at it flew past his cheek. Without thinking, he flapped his left wing to catch his balance, righting himself before he dove around her, hands gripping the hilt of his sword. He caught himself with his wings again, preventing the motion from propelling him forward to the floor, and twisted the blade. She spun on him like lightning, hilt still in his hands, and the sword tore free, ripping away a sizeable chunk of flesh. Her lion, goat and dragon heads winked out of existence with a triple chorus of screams and Jensen lunged to meet her, pushing his sword forward with all his might, shoving it upward through her ribs and aiming for her heart.

She grinned at him with white teeth and black gums, her hands closing around Jensen's still wrapped around the hilt, and tugged him a few inches closer, pushing the sword deeper through her body. Faces bare inches apart, Jensen could smell ozone on her skin, feel the whip and sting of her hair against his cheeks, feel her raw _power_. Sheer power radiated from her in terrifying waves, bereft of humanity and all emotion, and Jensen wanted to crawl away, slink to the nearest darkest corner and curl into a ball.

She let go of the sword, grabbing Jensen by the throat before he could move, other hand grasping his chin and yanking his mouth open. He could smell sulfur on her breath, confused until she inhaled—

She was going to breathe poison down his throat and he was going to die.

Beyond panic, beyond rational thought, Jensen let go of the sword and reached up, both hands locking around her throat and squeezing. In his mind, a rusted gate swung open and sound began inside him, violent buzzing vibration that shook him soul to brain, vortex seeming to open in his center. He didn't stop to think, seizing her with that energy and _pulling_.

The Twice-Born's eyes flew wide as her power began to flood him, scratchy and erratic, stretching and screaming through his nerves. Color and light swirled behind his eyes, filling his mind with horrific images he could barely comprehend. The moorings of his brain began to slip, sanity sliding away like sand, and his mouth fell open, high-pitched laughter beginning to bubble forth from his chest.

He was dimly aware of the hand holding his chin releasing, and then a fist collided with his cheek with enough force to send him flying backward. The connection cut off abruptly, and he hit the floor shoulders first, body skidding across the polished wood. Power still thundered in his veins, visceral and effervescent madness, and his hands trembled as he pushed up from the floor. 

Alicia and the person she had caught were on their feet. Jensen blinked and realized it was Xae, her clothing torn and bloodied, but very much alive. She snapped her wrists and knife blades descended into the palm of each hand even as Alicia drew back on the string of her bow.

The Twice-Born ignored them both, her mad eyes still locked on Jensen.

"The echo," she growled at him in disbelief, and Jensen could have sworn he heard a tremor of fear in her voice.

Xae stepped forward with a twist and a pivot, shoving a dagger into the Twice-Born's throat, and the Twice-Born turned on her, grabbing Xae by the arms.

Alicia released the bowstring, a silver arrow arcing through the air toward the Twice-Born—but she was already moving, flying toward the portal and dragging Xae behind her. Xae struggled and thrashed, her Qirin form flaring bright, but the Twice-Born ignored her, grip firm and sure.

"Jensen!" Xae shouted, wind threatening to rip away the word entirely.

Jensen pushed off the floor with more strength than he knew he possessed, wings spreading wide as he dove toward her, but she was faster, fleeing through the raw opening. The portal began to jitter, wind whipping and distorting its edges, and then it ran together like liquid, threads interlacing in quick, tight knots up the center. Colors flickered around the edges for a brief instant and then it vanished as though it had never been.

The last thing Jensen saw before it closed was Xae's face, her eyes pleading with him.

The wind abruptly ceased and everything fell to the floor at once. The emergency lights ceased blinking and the bright overhead lights of the club turned on. Jensen landed on his belly, bouncing off the floor before he gained his feet and spun around, eyes searching for where the portal had been.

Except for the dead body lying against the wall, the club looked as normal as it ever did, as if the last seven minutes had never happened.

"She's gone," Alicia said, lowering her bow.

"Jensen, are you all right?" Jared's hand grabbed Jensen by the shoulder, turning him around.

Jared stared at him for a moment and then threw his arms around Jensen and hugged him tight, crushing Jensen against his chest. Jensen relaxed for a few seconds, returning the hug and then stepped back, looking Jared over.

"I'm okay." It seemed as though he was; strange power still coursed through him, but mostly he felt like himself. He hadn't held on to the Twice-Born long enough to absorb much of her power. "You're all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine." Jared nodded.

"Where's Crystal?" Jensen asked, turning in a circle to look for her.

"I'm here," Crystal said, popping up from below the bar.

"I told her to hide while I was getting everyone out," Jared said.

"Alicia?" Jensen asked, although he hadn't seen anything come close to touching her.

"Yeah, I'm good." In the Meridian, Alicia returned her bow to her back as she nodded.

"Jensen, she took your sword," Jared said.

Jensen wasn't concerned about that. The Twice-Born had Xae, and not only did she need help, there was the old god spell to worry about. The Twice-Born knew Xae was close to Tenth, if she tortured Xae to find out what she knew, how long before she discovered Tenth had put the secret into Jensen? How long before the Twice-Born came looking for him specifically? She would stop at nothing to get at what Jensen was hiding, including killing everyone who got in her way. 

"My sword will grow back," Jensen said, offhand, and then stopped for a moment, wondering how he knew that.

_-Because I do-_

"We have to get to the Coalescence," Jensen went on, "let them know what's happened. They'll go after Xae. I already know where she is. Well, not _precisely_ where," Jensen corrected, "but I'm sure she's in the Umbra. Especially since they came through a portal and went back physically."

Jared frowned, seeming confused. "How did they have time to cast a spell to open that portal, anyway? A spell like that would take preparation time and probably ingredients. The Twice-Born closed it, but she wouldn't have opened it so they could get away." 

Jensen thought about that for a moment, and then he remembered.

He turned, looking at the body lying crumpled against the wall. "It must have been one of her abilities," Jensen said, voice quiet. He walked to the woman and knelt down, hesitating before he reached out and closed her eyes.

She was Asian, her skin pale and porcelain-like, with straight black hair pulled back in a long braid, dressed in dark cargo pants with large pockets running down the outside and a pair of white Chuck Taylor's. She was wearing a dark canvas jacket that matched her pants, and she looked considerably younger than all of them—maybe by as much as a decade. 

"Poor kid," Jared said as he walked up and then knelt beside Jensen. He was silent for a moment, and Jensen heard the sound of shuffling footsteps as Alicia and Crystal walked up behind them.

"What are we going to do?" Crystal asked. "That's… she's dead. How do we explain that to the police?"

"We're not going to involve the police," Jensen assured her. "The Coalescence must have ways of dealing with accidents like this." Jensen paused then, frowning. "But without Xae, I don't know how to contact them."

"There's no need," came a male voice from behind them, and Jensen rose to his feet, spinning around.

"I'm Grayson," the man said, raising his hands to demonstrate his peaceful intentions. The club door fell shut behind him, and Jensen was surprised for some reason to see that he'd come on foot. He was white with short, dark-brown hair, somewhere around average height and generally unremarkable in his jeans and black coat. "You're Xae's friends. The independents."

It wasn't really a question but they all answered affirmative except for Crystal, who remained silent, moving to the far side of the group.

Grayson shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. "I'm with the Coalescence. I've come for Maiko. And to request your presence with the leader of the Coalescence to tell us what happened here."

Jensen looked over his shoulder at the woman—who, in truth, looked more like a girl than a woman—and asked, "That was her name? Maiko?"

"Maiko Matsuo," Grayson confirmed. 

"How… how did you know she was here?" Jared asked.

"When a member of the Coalescence dies, we're immediately alerted to the location."

"By the marker on her wrist," Jensen added.

Grayson nodded.

"What kind of Legacy was she?" Alicia asked, stepping forward.

"She's—she _was_ , a Chimata-no-kami. A Japanese Shinto spirit of crossroads and travel."

That explained how she had opened the portal, then. "How old was she?" Jensen asked. "Eighteen? Maybe?"

"Nineteen," Grayson said. He took a step closer and gestured in the direction of Maiko. "May I?"

Jensen regarded the man a moment longer and then moved to one side, motioning for him to go past.

The man went to Maiko and knelt down, whispering her name with a sigh. When he rose to his feet again, Maiko's body was draped in his arms.

"I'm a descendant of Mercury, which means I move faster than the human eye can track. But since the rest of you need to accompany me, it would be simpler if we took one of the doors."

The last thing Jensen wanted to do was go to Coalescence headquarters if they didn't have to. Grayson's appearance seemed to make that unnecessary. "I don't see any reason for that. I can give you all the information you need right now to help you rescue Xae." 

"Then the Twice-Born has her?" Grayson asked, dismayed, as if he had been holding hope until Jensen spoke.

"She grabbed Xae before she went back through the portal."

"I…" Grayson hesitated for so long Jensen thought he might not finish his thought. "This is something you need to discuss with my superiors." Grayson glanced down at Maiko's body in his arms. "Please, continue this in the presence of the Auctoritas."

It was on the tip of Jensen's tongue to push the man to explain when Jared spoke up.

"Can a door take us where we need to go?"

"Near enough," Grayson replied. "I know the way, if you'll allow me to lead?"

A look shared between the three of them sealed the agreement, and Jensen belatedly realized Crystal was with them, too. He wasn't sure if she had any interest in coming along.

"Crystal? You in?"

She seemed to think about it for a moment, and then she nodded.

"It'll have to wait a few minutes. The fire department is gonna be here soon," Jared said, looking at Maiko. "Here, bring her into the library while I talk to them."

Jensen watched Jared lead Grayson to the library and sat down on a bar stool, beginning to divest himself of the neon necklaces and bracelets Jared had adorned him with earlier. He hadn't thought much of it before, but they were going to visit the Coalescence and he suspected Tenth might take him more seriously if he weren't wearing them.

As he deposited them one by into a small pile on the bar, Alicia led Crystal over to sit next to him, one of Alicia's arms wrapped around the other woman's shoulders. From Crystal's other side, Alicia leaned in and murmured something in Crystal's ear that Jensen couldn't hear, one of her hands still resting on Crystal's shoulder. Crystal nodded once in response, her expression still somber. It occurred to Jensen then that Crystal had probably never seen a dead body before, much less encountered anything like what they had just experienced.

"Hey," he spoke up as he reached out to brush at Crystal's blouse sleeve. "You doing all right?"

She mustered a smile and a nod, and Jensen squeezed her forearm with what he hoped was reassurance.

"This is not a typical day in our lives," he said, and then considered. "Of course, I don't know what typical looks like anymore, so I might be way off."

She chuckled mildly, and then sobered. "I just… I've never seen anyone dead before."

"It's a potential side-effect of being part of this life." Jensen tilted his head to regard her. "You having second thoughts? You know you don't have to be part of this."

"No way." She shook her head, emphatic. "I want in. All my life, I've been doing all this useless stuff. This feels like doing something real. Something right." She swiveled her head to look at Jensen straight on. "We're gonna make this right, right?"

She looked frail, shaken, but brave. Jensen liked her an awful lot just then.

"We're gonna try like hell," he promised her.  
  


*    *    *  


The door Grayson chose opened to a huge garden that was brightly and beautifully lit by ground lights. Many of the bushes were bare, brown branches with a few leaves hanging on, and all the tall trees clustered round were nearly bare as well, their remaining leaves brown and withered. The grass was neat and still green, vegetation browning in places, and there was a gorgeous pond raised up and encased in pale, round stone, its dark surface rippling with lily pads. Fall had clearly had its way with what would have surely been a lavish, flower-filled garden, bursting with color and greenery, but it was easy enough to imagine what it would look like in summer.

They stepped out into the chilly night, stars visible through the canopy of tree branches, and in the distance, Jensen could see what looked like a mansion. It was two stories tall at its tallest, only one story in others, and it sprawled wide across the grounds instead of rising high above them.

"Is this…" Jared turned around in place, eyes scanning the area. 

"It's the Tudor Palace," Alicia said. "I've seen pictures."

"Oh, I hear the high teas here are fantastic," Crystal said. "The name's misleading though. It's not big enough to be a real palace."

Jensen turned around to see they'd come through the door of a quaint looking shed with red, round-shingled roof. He closed the door, eyeing the garden flowers carved around the edges.

"This way," Grayson said, beginning to walk down the neatly bricked path.

He walked them to the wider, main path that cut through the middle of the garden, and then branched off to one of the divergent paths closer to the house. The bushes pressed in closer around them as they walked, and then they passed beneath a wooden arch covered in a network of bare, brown vines. Just beyond it, they stood under the shelter of an awning built on to the main house, in front of an old, wooden door with a fresh coat of white paint. There were a few swirls carved into the top cross section, but other than that it was fairly plain.

Grayson bowed his head and murmured some words Jensen didn't catch, and the door fell open before him. He angled his body to fit Maiko's body through without bumping her, and they followed him up a narrow flight of stairs.

Upon reaching the landing, Jensen could immediately feel the magic coursing through him, shaking him down and inspecting him, sniffing out whether he belonged there or not. After a moment, the sensation passed, and they continued down the hall of doorways to a set of double doors that seemed to open on their own. The magic shook Jensen more forcefully this time before releasing him, and then they stepped inside.

Inside, the ceilings were at least two stories high—higher than they possibly could have been from what Jensen had seen of the outside of the building, which meant they were in a pocket dimension of some kind. Everything in the huge room was supremely elegant, ivory colored pillars, beige and cream wallpaper in refined patterns. It was so completely different from the comfort and closeness of the first place they'd ever visited with Tenth that it took Jensen a few seconds of blinking to take it all in.

There was a grand piano set up on a slightly raised platform off to one side of the room, and the rest was filled with settees in shades of beige organized around dark wood tables. In the very center was a three-tiered fountain carved from pale stone, water spilling from the top down two levels to the base. The edges of the room were set with well-spaced, pillared platforms made of pale stone that stood waist high, and each held a glass vase filled with a multitude of flowers in various pastel colors. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceilings, soft, overhead lights shining tiny rainbows through them. The light, soothing sounds of classical music filled the room, playing over hidden speakers.

Upon one of the settees was what Jensen assumed to be Tenth. They were dressed in a white suit with a white tie, the material as opulent as the rest of the room. Behind them were two guards dressed in darker colors that stood out from the rest of the room. There were several other guards scattered about the room, but Jensen didn't pay much attention to them, watching as Grayson approached the settee next to Tenth and laid down Maiko's body, kneeling on one knee before the leader of the Coalescence and speaking with them in whispers.

After a moment, Tenth nodded and Grayson rose to his feet, nodding to Jensen and the rest of his group before he walked past them from the room. The four of them stood there for a moment, and then Tenth motioned for them to come closer.

Tenth's features were completely different than they had been before—the mouth wider and thinner, the nose longer, the eyes tilted slightly more upward and wider—but they still retained their androgynous quality, neither specifically male nor female, sometimes seeming to shift between the two. Their skin was a slightly lighter shade of olive, and they almost seemed to glow with health, cheeks full and slightly pinked, dark hair a bit longer and swept upward, off to one side. There was no warmth in those dark eyes as they regarded Jensen, but that wasn't unusual—Tenth had never been very warm. It was the scrutinizing look in them that made Jensen uncomfortable.

"Have we met before?" Tenth asked, squinting at Jensen.

Jensen resisted the urge to shift uneasily within his jacket. "Briefly," he said, far more casual than he felt.

"You seem… familiar somehow. But I don't recall how."

"It wasn't important. You just answered some questions about what we are."

"Ah," Tenth said with a slight nod. "Well then," they went on after a moment, and Jensen relaxed fractionally as Tenth's posture changed, becoming more business-like. "Please explain what happened."

Jensen relayed the story as swiftly as he could in as much detail as he dared.

Tenth stroked their chin for a long moment after Jensen had finished, seeming thoughtful. "In regard to the matter at hand, the Coalescence deeply regrets that this incident affected you. We'll do everything we can to minimize the impact to you. We will, of course, give Maiko a proper burial and make any recompense necessary to repair your property."

Jensen waved a hand at the air, annoyed as he dismissed Tenth's words. "The property is fine. We're fine. The only thing we care about is getting Xae back."

"I see," Tenth said. "I understand she is your friend. Unfortunately, that is an issue the Coalescence cannot address. Xae and Maiko were sent on a reconnaissance mission—they weren't supposed to engage with the Twice-Born."

"Maybe the Twice-Born caught them—who cares?" Jensen demanded. "Xae's your bodyguard, your advisor, your—" Jensen almost said 'lover', before he remembered. "One of your most trusted."

"It is a loss," Tenth agreed, grave. "But Xae knew the risks. The Umbra is dangerous, treacherous. We've lost too many lately to engage the Twice-Born without provocation."

Jensen was speechless. Fortunately, Alicia wasn't.

"So as long as she's in the Umbra you're just gonna leave her alone? Let her have Xae?" 

"Xae can be replaced," Tenth said, and that seemed to stun even Alicia into silence.

Jensen stared at Tenth, wordless for a long moment, and then anger began to simmer in his veins. "Fine. If you're too much of a coward to save her, then we'll rescue her ourselves."

It seemed as though it were Tenth's turn to be stunned. "You?" they asked, as if perhaps they'd misheard Jensen. 

Jensen had spoken rashly, he knew. He also hadn't asked Jared or Alicia if they agreed, and he looked to both of them in turn with a silent question. They both nodded their agreement and Jensen looked back to Tenth. "Yeah. Us."

"I'll go with them," said one of the guards, stepping forward.

He was dressed in black suit pants and a black suit vest that was buttoned up over a white dress shirt, sleeves of the shirt rolled up to just below his elbows, and he was wearing a black tie and a pair of black, fingerless leather gloves. His skin was a medium brown shade, and his features were distinctively Latino, dark eyes and short black hair, nose wide and flat and coming to a point between wide set nostrils. Dark stubble dotted his pointed chin and wide jaw, both of which were finely chiseled, and his lips were full. He was striking, well-muscled and exceedingly handsome, sleeves of black tattoo ink extending down both arms to his wrists beyond the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

"Lazaro," Tenth said, reproving.

Seemingly unconcerned by the warning tone in Tenth's voice, Lazaro took another step closer. He was slightly shorter than Alicia, five foot nine or so to her five foot eleven, but he seemed to occupy more than the space his physical body took up.

"If there's a chance to save Xae, I want to be part of it," Lazaro said. "That simple."

"You would leave your post, Lazaro?"

"Yes, Auctoritas." Lazaro bowed his head momentarily and then looked up at Jensen. "If they want my help."

It was all Jensen could do not to laugh. "Buddy, I'd have to be crazy to turn down help at this point." He paused, sobering as a thought occurred to him, and then added, "I'm not crazy."

A muscle shifted in Tenth's jaw as he regarded Lazaro. "It's your choice. But if you go against the decision of the Coalescence, we won't be able to protect you."

"Like you're protecting Xae?" Alicia asked, and huffed out a laugh. "I don't think he's gonna be missing much."

Tenth gave her a glance that suggested they were less than pleased with her assessment, and Alicia folded her arms across her chest and raised her brows at them, as if daring them to make something of it.

"I understand." Lazaro walked around the couch to the table before Tenth and removed an electronic device from his ear, setting it down on the polished wood.

"Good luck to you, Lazaro," Tenth said.

"Thank you, Auctoritas."

Lazaro moved to join their group where they stood, everyone moving as if eager to leave. Jensen lingered a moment, eyes traveling over Maiko's form on the settee next to them.

"Why couldn't I collect her soul?" he asked, and then looked at Tenth.

"You're a Valkyrie?" Tenth asked, confused and intrigued. "Valkyrie are traditionally female."

"Yeah, I'm special," Jensen said, impatient and prickly. He didn't want Tenth focused on him for longer than necessary.

"A Legacy cannot collect the soul of a Legacy. Our souls are different than those of pure humans. That's why you cannot see our memories unless we allow it, either."

Jensen thought about that for a moment, and then nodded before he turned away.

Lazaro guided them to the entrance, and it began to dawn on Jensen that perhaps he should have had a plan in place before volunteering to rescue Xae. The idea was desperate at best, and he had no reason to believe they could defeat the Twice-Born when even the Coalescence was hesitant.  

"You know we don't have a plan yet?" Jensen asked.

Lazaro opened the door leading to the garden. "We'll come up with one."

"So did you just quit the Coalescence?" Crystal asked as she stepped outside.

"Maybe," Lazaro said with a shrug, as if he weren't sure, himself. He seemed to be at peace with the thought, either way. "After we get Xae back, we'll see."

"How long have you been with them?" Jensen asked as they walked through the garden to the shed.

"Twelve years. I was fourteen when Xae found me. She was the one who brought me in. I've worked with her ever since."

"That's why you wanna help us," Alicia said.

"That," he said, rolling his shoulders back and forth, "and Tenth was different then, too. Less formal. I would never have called them Auctoritas unless it was a formal situation. I only knew the last incarnation. This one's a stranger to me."

"You like them?" Jensen asked, arching a brow at the other man.

"I don't," Lazaro said simply. "The last one would never have left Xae in the Umbra."

"The last one was in love with her," Jensen noted, wry.

Lazaro side-eyed Jensen, seeming vaguely surprised that Jensen knew. The look was there and then gone, Lazaro appraising Jensen as he responded. "Even if they hadn't been in love. The Tenth I knew would never leave anyone behind so easily."

"Really?" Jensen asked, wondering if he had sold the previous incarnation short.

"This Tenth does a lot of things differently. But I'm not here to talk about them."

Jensen stopped before the shed door, focusing on it as he let his awareness sideslip, imagining it opening to the Hall of Doors. It began to glow softly, garden flowers doing a little shimmy within their wooden margins. Jensen reached out, opened it and surveyed the scene on the other side before he stepped through.

The door that opened was only a few feet off the floor and the others followed him through easily enough.

"So this is your headquarters?" Lazaro asked, eyes roving the club.

"Such as it is," Jensen said. "Not quite as grandiose as what you're used to."

Lazaro gave a long look around the club with his eyes, taking a moment to take it all in, and then he said, "I like it. It's honest."

Jensen sensed there was more hidden behind that remark than he understood. He wondered if Lazaro thought Tenth's current set-up was dishonest. Personally, Jensen thought it had seemed contrived, overwrought, and petty somehow for a person who had originally seemed down to earth. The old Tenth might have been an advocate for and an agent of the Legacy equivalent of Big Brother, but they hadn't acted as though their station put them above anyone. 

Lazaro tugged at the knot of his black tie, loosening it slightly as he sat down on a barstool. "I don't know if any of you work here, but can I get a shot of bourbon?"

Crystal was still gazing at his loosened tie as if transfixed, teeth biting down on her lower lip, and Jensen couldn't entirely blame her; Lazaro was extremely attractive. Jensen nudged her in the ribs with one elbow to get her to stop staring, and she startled as if from a trance, then moved into action to pour Lazaro a shot. It wasn't necessarily her job, but Jensen wasn't going to stop her.

"So what kind of Legacy are you?" Alicia asked, taking a seat beside Lazaro.

"My family is from Brazil, originally." Lazaro began to undo the fingerless gloves on his hands. "I'm a Curupira."

"What do you do?" Jensen asked, letting his senses sideslip into the Meridian to see if he could get a look at the man's Legacy form. A split second later Lazaro was standing in front of Jensen, mere inches from his face, and there were several Lazaros standing about the bar in various areas in various poses. An instant later the Lazaros all faded, the real one still sitting on his barstool.

"I create illusions, have the ability to mask my presence, and I have a sonic whistle that does damage to the Legacy I use it on. I've also been trained extensively in firearm use and hand to hand combat, like Xae." He paused, then added, "She's still better than me, though."

In the Meridian, he was tall—like seven feet tall—and his facial features appeared almost as handsome as they were in the Prime, with just a slightly sharper edge to them. His ears were elongated upward and pointed at the tips, skin burnt-orange with brighter orange eyes to match, and his hair was made of fire that licked at the air, longish at the top and growing shorter as it trailed away in a line, ending halfway down his spine. He was hugely muscular and naked except for the fringe of green grass that hid his genitals. The strangest thing about him was that his feet appeared to be attached backwards.

  
[](https://ibb.co/cDzwKJ)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

Lazaro downed his shot and set the glass down. "Our kind are thought of as children in modern mythology, but there's nothing childish about us."

"Not even a little," Crystal half-whispered, a finger extending as if to touch one of Lazaro's pectoral muscles. She cut the motion short and cleared her throat, grabbing up his empty glass. "Another?" she asked.

Lazaro shook his head and Jared spoke into the momentary silence. "There are some things we need to go over if you're going to be working with us. We'll need to imprint you with a magic symbol to travel through the doors alone, and we'll need—"

"Aren't you human?" Lazaro asked, eyes squinting as if he were trying to see Jared's shape in the Meridian.

"I'm the…" Jared hesitated for a long moment, and then he said, "I'm the Keeper."

"Then you're the maker of the Legacy doors?" Lazaro asked, his eyes widening.

"No, that was my grandfather."

The conversation descended into explanations and the exchange of knowledge all around. Jensen felt hesitant to share too much with Lazaro. After all, he was still part of the Coalescence and the less the Coalescence knew about what went on with them, the better. But he had volunteered to help them, and they couldn't keep him completely in the dark. As they continued to talk, it became obvious that Lazaro knew more about everything Legacy related than they did, which Jensen had expected. That, added to his combat training made him a huge asset, but more than that he seemed honest and likable, and his loyalty to Xae was unquestionable.

As the conversation wound down, Jared volunteered his apartment to Lazaro for the night. Jared had been staying at Jensen's apartment regularly enough that it wasn't much of a sacrifice. They all agreed to meet early in the morning to devise a plan, and then Crystal and Alicia departed, heading for home as Jared locked up. They showed Lazaro Jared's apartment, made sure he knew where the important things were, and then and then left him to get comfortable.

Jensen was exhausted by the time they got to his room, and he fell down on the bed face first, exhaling a huge breath. Jared fell in next to him, pushing up against his side, and Jensen turned slightly toward him, slinging an arm across Jared's shoulders. It had only been eight hours, but it seemed like it had been years ago when Alicia had walked in on them.

Jared turned his cheek against the bedspread, eyeing Jensen. "I heard what the Twice-Born said to you."

"What?" Jensen asked, turning on his side to see Jared more clearly.  

"In the club, earlier."

"I don't remember." Jensen vaguely remembered she had said something, but he'd been a bit distracted at the time, and fairly distracted since then, if he were being honest.

"Jensen." Jared was looking at him intently, something grave in the set of his features. "She called you the echo. Like in my grandfather's journal."

Jensen thought about that for a moment, and then he gave a short, sad laugh. "The echo. That's my power, isn't it? I don't have anything that's mine, just the ability to echo other people's powers."

Jared looked disappointed in Jensen's conclusion. "That wasn't what I was thinking about, but…" Jared's brows drew together, hazel eyes reflecting sadness. "You're more than an echo, Jensen."

"That's sweet, Jared, but—" Suddenly the memory clicked and turned over inside his mind and his fingers clutched at the bedspread, made a fist in Jared's shirt. He let go and sat up, turning on the edge of the bed. The world went dim and gray and faraway and his heart leapt in his chest, beginning to pound. His mind suddenly felt too big for the shape of his skull and he trembled all the way down to his bones.

_In the echo you will find the answer._

Holy shit. The muscles in his chest tightened, clenching down, and he wheezed, gasping for breath.

"Jensen?" Jared sounded concerned. "Jensen are you okay?"

"I'm… definitely… not okay," Jensen gasped. "Not even… anything… resembling okay."

Jared pressed a hand against his back, rubbing in slow circles. "Shh, Jensen," he breathed out, leaning close to Jensen's ear. "Shh shh shh, it's okay, Jensen."

Slowly, the invisible hands squeezing his lungs released, and he sat there, panting, his eyes wide. 

"Th-that's a prophecy," he stammered out. "Someone made a fucking _prophecy_ about me. Someone made a prophecy about me _thirty fucking years ago_ . I wasn't even _born_ yet."

"I don't know if I'd call it a 'prophecy'." Jared seemed doubtful. "I mean, in one sense of the definition, yes, because it's divination, but the words were said by a Seer, not a prophet, which means they're not actually divine—"

"Whatever," Jensen said, throwing a hand at the air. He wasn't in the mood to split hairs with Jared about the definition. "Someone made a prediction about the future about _me_."

" _That's_ what I was thinking about." Jared rubbed his hand in a slow circle across Jensen's back. "What do you think it means?"

 _In the echo you will find the answer_. Jensen could think of one answer that could be found inside him. One very important, very particular piece of information that could end the universe as they knew it.

He couldn't conscience lying to Jared, couldn't even begin to force out the words that wanted to spring to his lips. He shook his head instead, noncommittal.

"This is not good. I'm not prophecy material." A thought struck him, and terrified him anew. He craned his neck to look at Jared. "Jesus fuck, Jared. I've watched enough movies. You know what it means when people foretell stuff about you? It means you've got a destiny. I have a destiny." His fingers clenched against the bedspread again and he looked forward, away from Jared, eyes losing their focus as the words truly sank in. "A _destiny_."

Or perhaps destiny had already found him. He already had the secret, after all, the answer that others might be looking for. Still, it was a huge, horrifying thought, that someone thirty years ago had known he would exist with that secret in his head.

"In the echo you will find the answer…" Jared said, voice soft and musing. "Maybe that means you're supposed to be the one to stop her."

As daunting as the prospect of stopping the Twice-Born was, Jensen thought he'd be lucky if that were all it meant. Hell, he'd be getting off easy. He would take that over Legacies and Rift monsters coming after him to pick his brain apart and get at what was inside.

Still, either way, he had to go up against the Twice-Born, and he had no idea how to kill her. It was more likely that all of them would die in the attempt to save Xae, but they had to try. In all that had happened over the course of the night, he hadn't had much time to consider the idea on a realistic level. Talking about it was one thing; realizing they were actually going to have to go physically do it was another. The panic inside him was so deep and complete that he almost felt crushed by it, beyond fight or flight instinct—he was frozen.

"Jensen… breathe," Jared reminded him gently. Jared shifted on the bed, then, climbing down off the side beside Jensen and then knelt on the floor in front of him. He settled his hands on Jensen's knees and looked up at Jensen with those warm, hazel eyes. "If this _is_ your destiny, then it means you're supposed to be able to pull this off, right? If you're the _answer_ , then that means you're good. That means you're supposed to win."

Jensen wasn't at all sure that was the case, but feeling those strong hands on his knees, looking into those eyes, so filled with belief and trust, he could almost believe it.

"I want to believe that," Jensen said, voice quiet. "I _need_ to believe that. But Jared…" He shook his head, at a loss. "I'm just me. I'm just some random guy that cons people with my abilities for a living. And those abilities aren't even mine. I stole them. How am I supposed to defeat the Twice-Born? I'm just 'The Echo'." 

"You're not just 'The Echo'," Jared said, like he couldn't believe Jensen would sell himself short. "Those are just words some Seer said a long time ago. You're made of parts—the Echo inside you, the Valkyrie. Yes, you're both those things, but you're also _you_. You're a gestalt."

"Is that a fancy word for disaster?" Jensen asked with wan humor.

Jared breathed out a laugh. "No. It means what I said: the whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

"Gestalt," Jensen said, rolling the word around on his tongue. He still felt panic deep down in his chest, but he felt a little more in control of it, and he felt something else, too; something warm and full that he was beginning to associate with Jared. He looked at Jared for a long moment and then leaned down to kiss him. "You know you're too good to me?"

"I'm just as good as you deserve," Jared contradicted him with a smile.

"This is gross," Jensen decided aloud. "We're gross."

"We're adorable," Jared corrected.

"That's exactly what I said." Jensen grinned and pulled him up onto the bed.

  


*    *    *  
  


Hours later, they laid there in the darkness, Jared's body curled up behind Jensen's, so much bare skin touching that Jensen couldn't see any of Jared's memories. Jared's breathing was heavy and even with sleep, and Jensen had been listening to it for over an hour, his eyes wide open and staring at the far wall.

There was part of him, a tiny part, that whispered he should run, habit so ingrained after nearly a decade that it was second nature. He tried not to judge himself for that part—Jared wouldn't have—but it was difficult, because he wanted very badly to run away from all of this, like some sort of nightmare that would evaporate once he had some distance on it. But this was real, perhaps the most real thing that had ever happened to him, and he couldn't hide anymore, he couldn't pretend it wasn't happening. 

He'd been running and hiding for so long, different cities and different names, different eyes and different hair, never sure who he was underneath. He'd been a scared little boy trying to escape the death of his parents, suppressing the truth of what he was. Now he knew what he was, he had friends, a lover, and perhaps a purpose. Perhaps more than any of that, he had something to lose, something to defend. If he couldn't run—if he _wouldn't_ run, then it was time to stop pretending, time to throw off the names and all the other lies.

He drew back the covers and slid quietly from the bed, taking care to make sure Jared was covered, and then walked with purpose toward the bathroom. He flicked on the light and eyed the chin length strands of his blue hair critically before he bent, digging beneath the sink through various boxes and bottles until he found what he wanted. He set the box on the counter and opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out a cheap pair of scissors before he settled the mirrored door back into place.

He slid his index and middle fingers down a length of cobalt hair caught between, and separated it from the rest. Then he took up the scissors and began to cut.

 


	11. Chapter 11

  


art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

Jensen was in the library around mid-morning when Jared found him. Jensen was standing next to the table, looking through a tome when Jared stopped at the end of the bookcase hall, his eyes wide as he stared at Jensen.

"Jensen… your hair."

Jensen's hair had already been shaved fairly close to his skull underneath his asymmetrical cut; he'd trimmed the long strands to about an inch in length at the top of his head and dyed his whole head a light shade of sandy brown that matched his natural color. The ends were slightly lighter because of the bleaching he'd done before he'd dyed it blue, but he thought it blended pretty well. When he'd finished dying his hair, he'd swept the longer strands on top into a spiky mess with some gel, left his contacts in the case and spent about five solid minutes staring at himself in the mirror before he'd come downstairs. He was still wearing his usual concert t-shirt, faded jeans, motorcycle jacket and boots. Those things had become part of him. 

Jensen set the book aside on the table. "You like it?" he asked, running a hand along the top of his head, fingers barely brushing over the strands of hair.

Jared took a few more steps inside the room, eyes fixed on Jensen's head. "It's… you look normal."

"Take that back," Jensen demanded, half insulted, half joking.

"You also look amazing," Jared breathed, walking closer still. "I can see your whole face now." Jared reached out, fingertips skimming Jensen's cheek, and Jensen flinched, bringing up his barriers in a rush.

"Does it hurt, being that gorgeous?" Jared asked, smile playing about his lips.

"Little bit," Jensen said, smirking.

"Do me a favor," Jared said, fingertips still touching Jensen's skin. "Drop your mental defenses."

Jensen frowned. He wanted to ask why, but since it was Jared, he didn't, and let his defenses drop. A moment passed, and none of Jared's memories sparked in his mind's eye. Confused, he reached out, laying his hand alongside Jared's bare neck, and still, nothing happened.

"I'm not… seeing anything." Jensen actually tried, pushing outward with his mind, seeking Jared's memories like he did with his clients. Jared stood there, that same smile playing about his lips, and waited until Jensen shook his head. "I can't even see anything when I try."

"I found a warding spell," Jared said. "I did it yesterday while you were out. It's supposed to silence my 'mind' so others can't hear it. I took a chance and hoped that would include memories as well. Seems like it worked." Jared's smile appeared in full, brilliant bloom.

"So you can touch me now? Whenever you want?" Jensen asked, delicious thrill running through him with the words.

"As long as you want me to." Jared nodded, still smiling.

Jensen leaned up to kiss him, and it was different than any kiss he'd had in a long time; no tension of resistance in his chest, no worry of memories crashing into him. It was sweet and hot and relaxed and so incredibly _normal._ He could focus on the texture and feel of Jared's fingertips against his skin, the softness of his lips, the glide and swirl of his slick tongue over Jensen's, a hundred different tiny sensations he'd been missing out on for the last decade, and he made a noise of appreciation into Jared's mouth, palms settling against each side of Jared's neck as he deepened the kiss.

"Good morning, lovebirds."

Jensen pulled back and they both turned their heads to see Crystal coming into the library, several wicker trays in her hands and a basket hanging off one arm. She was wearing a long, pale coat with a cream-colored scarf wound around her neck and face, and with her huge, dark sunglasses on, she looked like a Hollywood starlet from the 60's. With hardly a glance at them, she pulled off her black leather gloves and set about putting the trays down on the table.

Jensen gave Jared one last quick kiss in silent apology, and Jared returned the apology with a look that clearly said they'd continue this later.

"So," Crystal said, pointing to each tray in turn, "I made blueberry and raspberry danishes, chocolate croissants," she pointed to the basket then, which was covered by a white cloth, "and then there's butterscotch toffee cookies for later."

"You made all this?" Jensen asked as he let go of Jared and turned to look over the food. The danishes looked fresh and flaky, icing drizzled on top of the raspberries and blueberries in the center. The croissants were small and well rounded, golden brown with powdered sugar sprinkled over the top and filled with what looked like chocolate cream. There were at least a dozen of each and Jensen was rather astounded by her ability, not to mention the time it must have taken. 

"I told you I could bake," she said with a saucy wink at him. And then she stopped as she saw his hair. "Jensen! I love your haircut!" She squealed and clapped her hands together and then hurried over to him to get a better look.

"The way it shows off your face is great! It really accentuates the angles—god you have a beautiful face—and you've got just the perfect amount of texture. And those highlights on the tips are perfect!" She was fairly beaming at him. "I'm so proud of you."

Jensen wanted to be annoyed, but she was so pleased he really couldn't be, and so he smiled in return. "Thanks, Crystal."

She started to reach out and pat his cheeks and then seemed to think the better of it. "I'll go make some coffee," she said, heading back out toward the bar.

Jared and Jensen sat down next to each other at the table, each of them picking up a book from the stack at the center to read through. Alicia arrived while Crystal was gone, brushing her fingers over Jensen's newly short hair before sinking into the chair on the other side of him and saying good morning. She was halfway through a raspberry danish when Crystal returned with a pot of coffee and a tray of mugs. 

Lazaro arrived last. He was dressed far differently than he'd been when they'd met him yesterday, dressed in a light gray tank top under an open, black and gray patterned, casual button-up shirt and a pair of fitted blue jeans with stylish black boots.

"Sorry I'm late," Lazaro said as he walked in. "I had to run by my apartment on foot to get a change of clothes."

Jared rose from his seat then. "I should have thought about that last night. The doors are coded now to only work for people with the right mark." Jared walked to one of the shelves and pulled out a ceramic jar Jensen knew was filled with the spell-paint for using the doors. "Let's get you set up with a sigil that'll let you use the doors in the club to travel."

Lazaro unrolled the sleeves of his button up shirt and shrugged out of it, laying it neatly on the library table as Jared uncapped the ceramic jar and took up a paintbrush. There were angels and demons of varying types tattooed on his arms from wrist to shoulder, some of them battling, some interlaced and growing out of each other, others taking flight or rising up out of clouds or flames.

"That's some beautiful ink," Jared commented.

"Thanks," Lazaro said. "I was raised Catholic. My beliefs changed after finding out about being a Legacy, but I was always drawn to the symbolism, the idea of angels and demons. When I was little I thought the four horsemen were terrifying but also really cool." He turned around and stripped his tank top over his head, exposing his back.

His musculature was exquisitely defined, and it was covered in a beautiful tattoo of the four horsemen on their mounts, the black ink worked into his skin with excruciating detail; as lovingly shaded and detailed as a pencil drawing or painting. They all wore hooded cloaks that flowed out behind them, and the art was so realistic Jensen could almost see the horses breathe, the movement of the dust and mist that rose around them. Death rode on his pale horse, skull-faced and gripping his scythe, Pestilence's features were rotting, War had an arrogant, demonic face with an evil grin, and Famine was gaunt, sticks and bones and skin stretched over a yawning skull. 

"That's amazing," Jared said, admiring, and Jensen had to agree.

Crystal, who was lingering by the bookshelves, didn't say word, everything she was thinking expressed in her wide, dark eyes and slack jaw.

Lazaro pulled his shirt back on, lifting and tugging the edge down around his waist as he turned back to them. "My ink shouldn't interfere with what you're putting on me, right?"

"No. This symbol will be invisible in the Prime and your tattoos won't interfere. Just like your Coalescence mark."

In short order, having done it for each one of them before, Jared painted the symbol onto Lazaro's forearm, recited the spell and then cleaned up. Once everyone had a cup of coffee and a pastry of some kind in hand, they gathered around the library table to eat and discuss their strategy.

Jensen looked around the table, enormity of what they were trying to do catching up with him again. Except for Lazaro, whom he didn't know well, these people were his friends, and he instinctively flinched away from the idea of putting them in danger. He would have gone alone, except he knew that alone, he wouldn't have had a chance—not to mention they would never have let him. They would have hunted him down, if they had to.

Jensen opened his notebook, flipping through a few pages to get to the notes he'd made, gearing up to speak—

Black smoke rose from the floor near the bookshelves, swirling and insubstantial, twisting and twining around itself into a column, and everyone in the room pushed backward and rose from their chairs, preparing for a confrontation. Jensen frowned, realizing it wasn't smoke but something else even as the black substance shivered and expanded outward, gaining mass and becoming opaque, nearly solid, pieces of it stripping away and slithering to the floor to reveal brown skin beneath. A moment later, pale gray eyes regarded them all, remnants of shadow sliding back into their places in the room and settling.

"So," Lex said, folding his arms over his chest as he sized them up with an imperious look. "I heard you're planning a rescue."

For a moment, everyone was silent, and then Jared looked at Jensen and said, "We need to ward this place better."

"Who are _you_?" Crystal asked, looking delighted as her eyes roved up and down Lex's form.

"I'm Lex," the Incubus said with an incline of his head that seemed almost gracious as he returned her appreciative look. "And you are _beautiful_ , my dear. What's your name?"

"Knock it off," Jensen growled in warning. 

Jensen saw Alicia reach over and touch Crystal's hand momentarily with a slight shake of her head.

Slightly less enthusiastically, she replied, "My name is Crystal."

"A pleasure," Lex said and leaned slightly forward with his shoulders in a sort of bow.

"I said knock it off," Jensen warned again. 

"I was only making introductions," Lex responded, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"For you that's practically second base," Jensen replied.

Lex's gaze shifted from Jensen then, moving to the other new face in the room. "Lazaro," Lex said with a tone that suggested there was some history between them.

"Lex," Lazaro returned, face impassive.

"You two know each other?" Jensen asked. The fact that they knew one another irritated him more than Lex showing up. "Do all the Legacies in this town know each other?"

"We're not a huge group," Lazaro said with a shrug. "But I work in the security field, on the streets a lot. We tend to encounter more independent Legacies."

Jensen heaved a sigh and leveled his gaze on Lex. "What do you want?" he demanded.

Lex uncrossed his arms and took a few steps nearer to the table, his posture regal and elegant as ever. "I thought you might need help."

Jensen squinted at him, suspicious of his motives. "Why? Don't pretend you care about Xae." 

"It's true," Lex admitted, lifting one shoulder slightly. "I don't care about Xae. But I do care about the Twice-Born."

Jensen stared at Lex, mind feeling as blank as his expression probably looked. "Because…?"

Lex's eyes seemed to bore into Jensen as he said, "I heard she's looking for the Retro Partum."

"Backward creation?" Jared asked, and Jensen assumed he was translating the words. "That doesn't sound good."

"It isn't," Lex said, glancing at Jared. "It's the name for the spell that will open the prison where the old gods are locked away."

Jensen shifted uneasily and then sat back down in his chair. He hadn't known that was what it was called. It had probably been safer that he didn't even know that much about it.

"That's what she's after?" Lazaro asked, surprised. "I didn't think that spell really existed."

"Where did you hear that?" Jensen demanded.

"I have my sources," Lex said, corner of his mouth quirking.

"Again, I'm wondering: why do you care?" Jensen asked, unimpressed. If anything, Lex knowing that and sharing it with the group made things that much more difficult.

"Some people," Lex said with a motion of his gloved left hand, "like the Twice-Born, think things were better for us when the old gods ruled. That if the old gods were free we would rule with them over humanity."

"And you think that's a _bad_ plan?" Jared asked, skeptical and unconvinced.

"I think creatures at the top of the food chain tend to remain there, and I don't think the old gods would be inclined to share. I _like_ being at the top of the food chain," Lex said with a grin. "Even if the old gods let us live once they were free again, which is unlikely, they'd still rule over us. I'd rather be an apex predator than a slave."

"So you can keep murdering people?" Jared asked.

"I don't murder people," Lex said with disdain as he drew himself up. "Not even when I feed—shades, do you know what that could do to me?"

"You've killed people." 

Jensen was fairly sure Jared had no way of knowing that for certain but that didn't seem to deter Jared at all.

"Killed, yes," Lex admitted, seemingly without regret. "In self-defense, when I had no other choice. But murdered? No." 

"Great," Jared said, snide. "So you're a killer, not a murderer—let's be best friends."

"Have you never killed anyone?" Lex asked, as if he were truly curious.

Jared's answer was as instantaneous as it was offended. "Never."

"You will," Lex told him, completely serious.

Everyone was silent for a moment and Jensen took the opening to steer the conversation back on track. "You're willing to risk your life for this?" he asked as he looked at Lex.

Lex gave a slight nod. "She cannot be allowed to succeed."

"Fine. At this point, we'll take all the help we can get," Jensen said, tiredly. He met Jared's eyes for a moment, letting his head tilt slightly in acknowledgement of Jared's concerns, and watched as Jared almost visibly swallowed whatever he'd been about to say.

"As long as he's helpful," Alicia said, seeming doubtful as she re-took her seat.

Jensen motioned for Lex to sit and he took a seat as everyone else sat back down.

"I guess that changes the mission," Alicia said. "Before we could've gotten away with incapacitating her, long as we got Xae out. Now we have to kill her."

"Why couldn't she just wanna rule the world?" Jensen sighed. "It's classic villain 101."

"That wouldn't change our mission," Lex remarked.

"No." Jensen's tone was a mixture of surprise, agreement and offense. "But we'd sure as hell have more help."

Lex made a noise of general agreement. "I was surprised the Coalescence wasn't on top of this, given that the Retro Partum is involved. The former Tenth would never have ignored this."

"Wait." Jensen held up a hand. "You're saying the Coalescence— _Tenth_ —knows about this?"

"Yes. I thought it seemed odd they'd let it go. And unlike Tenth," Lex mused, eyeing the food on the table.

"There's a lot of that going on lately," Lazaro spoke up. 

"You didn't know about this?" Jensen asked.

Lazaro lifted a shoulder. "I'm general security. I'm on a need to know basis."

Jensen didn't understand. He didn't understand Tenth leaving Xae with the Twice-Born, but he could understand _that_ better than he could understand Tenth allowing the Twice-Born to pursue the 'undo' spell. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask 'why' when a chilling thought occurred to him.

_The last Tenth said their new incarnation would be darker, crueler. That the temptation to use the spell might be too great for them. Maybe this one_ **_wants_ ** _the old gods free._

If that were true—and deep in his bones, Jensen knew that it was—then they might end up facing down the Coalescence as well as the Twice-Born, and that wasn't a battle they were going to be able to win.

At the table, Lex cut Lazaro a thoughtful look. "So it really is just us, then?" 

"We happy few." 

"We band of buggered," Lex muttered with smirk.

Jensen pulled himself from the haze of his disbelief and forced himself back into the moment. He had to focus on the business aspect of the situation, what he could get done and what he couldn't. If he could get through the next five minutes, maybe he could get through the next hour, the rest of the day, and ignore that tiny voice that kept whispering they were all screwed.

"You still in?" Jensen asked Lex.

Lex didn't hesitate. "Of course. She still needs to be stopped. Especially since the Coalescence can't be bothered to get off its ass and do it. Bureaucracy." He snorted.

"Then we need to pinpoint any weaknesses the Twice-Born has," Jensen said, watching as Lex looked over the blueberry danishes. It seemed surreal that they were sitting around having pastries while discussing how to kill a monster.

"Xae said Chimera's can be killed by lead," Jared put in. Since Jensen had accepted Lex's presence, Jared seemed determined to ignore the other man's existence entirely.

"Yeah, but I thought Xae's lead knives didn't work on her?" Alicia said.

"They didn't." Jensen shifted his jaw, an idea occurring to him. "But… putting enough bullets in her might send her into lead overdose. Or at least weaken her." He felt something like excitement course through him with the realization. "That's it. That's the edge we need to make this a fair fight. If we can get her power down to a more normal level, we should be able to finish her."

"Might work." Alicia nodded. "Except we don't have any guns."

"I have guns," Lazaro said. "Four handguns and two rifles."

"Well that's enough for one for each of us," Jensen said.

"That's enough for _me_ ," Lazaro corrected him.

Jensen blinked once at him. "You carry six guns?"

"When I need to." Lazaro nodded, and then said, almost as if he felt inadequate, "I'd carry more, but it gets too bulky." 

Jensen decided not to explore that and moved on. "Then we're going to need more guns."

"I should be able to help with that," Lex said. "I know someone." 

On a practical level, Jensen didn't like the idea of having to rely on Lex—on a practical level, he didn't even know if his feelings were his own when it came to Lex, given Lex's abilities—but Lex was what they had.

"How soon?" Jensen asked. 

Lex considered his blueberry danish for a moment. "Probably a few hours." 

"All right." Jensen nodded and then looked around the table. "Anybody here know how to actually shoot a gun? Besides Lazaro?"

Everyone at the table looked at everyone else and then Crystal raised her hand, huge silver bangle bracelet falling down her wrist. 

Jensen's brows rose halfway up his forehead. "You?" 

"My daddy's a Republican," she said as she shrugged and lowered her hand.

"I'll give the rest of you a quick course," Lazaro said. "It's basically just point and pull the trigger for this mission."

"Okay," Jensen said. "Jared and I will work on finding the spell to open a portal to the Umbra, Crystal you work on studying Chimeras and finding out what else might harm the Twice-Born, Lazaro and Alicia work on studying the Umbra and what we can expect to find there, and Lex, you get us the guns and bullets. Everybody clear?" When everyone nodded, he went on, "We need to do this today, if possible. The longer we wait the more damage the Twice-Born can do to Xae."

"She may already be dead," Lex offered.

Jensen scowled at him. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"Much as I hate to admit it," Alicia said, "he's right. She might already be dead."

Jensen had reason to think otherwise, but every second they waited the Twice-Born could be getting closer to the secret stashed in Jensen's head. "Let's assume she's alive. If Lex is right and the Twice-Born is looking for this Post Partum—"

"Retro Partum," Jared corrected.

Jensen made a hand motion to insert what Jared had said. "Then we have to assume she took Xae because Xae knows something about it—or the Twice-Born thinks she does. Which means keeping her alive is in the Twice-Born's best interest for now."

"The Twice-Born must be destroyed, regardless," Lex said. "If there's even a chance she can obtain the Retro Partum and perform the ritual, we have to kill her."

_That, or die trying_ , Jensen thought, but didn't say aloud, merely nodding his agreement.

Everyone began to split up into their assigned groups, but Jensen paused, eyes lingering on Lex.

"Lex, can I see you in the bar for a minute?" Jensen asked.

Jared's eyes lit on him with worried curiosity; Lex looked intrigued.

They walked side by side toward the bar, and Jensen led Lex over to the dance floor side of the club, stopping in front of the raised DJ booth. The aqua walls looked pale without the blue overhead lights turned on, but the doors set into the walls were just as striking in shades of teal, dark blue, crimson red, pale green and dark yellow. Lex stood out, as usual, his dark clothing and light hair a striking contrast to everything around him.

Lex glanced down at the floor and then fixed Jensen with an amused look. "Did you bring me here to dance?"

"I want to ask you something. Two somethings, actually, but you're only going to remember one of them."

Lex cocked his head at Jensen, those pale gray eyes regarding him with curiosity and just the slightest hint of a challenge. "You have my interest."

Jensen sighed and folded his arms over his chest, wrestling with helplessness despite knowing he had no choice. "I need your knowledge, but you can't give it to me until I tell you something that's a huge secret. I can't let you remember that secret—for your own safety. So I'll need to take the memory of that conversation from you permanently." Jensen paused, then, fingers curled into loose fists, pointed emphatically downward with both forefingers as he crossed his wrists. " _After_ we have it."

Lex looked at Jensen's hands and their vague indication of a timeline, then blinked at him several times in rapid succession. "This _must_ be life or death if you're asking me to trust you."

Jensen felt a flash of impatience edged with anger. "I can't take the memory unless you let me. I can't even _see_ your memories unless you show them to me, so this is _me_ trusting _you_."

Lex subsided, thoughtful for a moment. "What's more important than life or death?"

"Is this a riddle?" Jensen asked with an exasperated shake of his head.

"No. I'm trying to figure out what's important enough that you would consider trusting _me_."

"I could tell you, but I'd have to steal the memory," Jensen said, slightly amused despite himself.

"I must admit, I'm curious enough to agree, despite that I won't remember it later." Lex fell silent for a few seconds, lips pursing as he seemed to think Jensen's offer through. "Very well," he finally said with an incline of his head.

Jensen hesitated, steadied himself, and then hesitated again. His throat tightened, a vise against words he didn't want to say—almost didn't dare to say. With an inner push that felt almost physical, he began to speak. "The Retro Partum…" He hesitated one more time and then blurted out the words all at once, like ripping off a band-aid. "The Retro Partum spell is in me. In my head. I'm what the Twice-Born is looking for."

From anyone else, Jensen would have expected a request for clarification, or a request for a second affirmation of what he'd just said. But not from Lex, and Lex didn't disappoint him.

Lex's eyes widened so far Jensen could see the whites of his eyes around the pale irises, brows rising higher than Jensen had thought they could go. And then, lips parted, eyes still wide, his brows drew downward and together. "Oh, Jensen," he sighed, rueful as he raised a hand to his mouth.

"Now you understand why I have to take your memory—why you don't even want to keep it," Jensen breathed, and Lex gave a slow nod. Now that Jensen had begun speaking the truth, it came much easier. "The old Tenth knew the spell, and they made me take the memory of it away, locked it up safe in my brain. The new Tenth doesn't know I have it. But Xae was there when it happened. She knows. And I think that's why this Tenth is willing to leave her with the Twice-Born. That might even be why Tenth sent her to the Umbra in the first place, so the Twice-Born could pull it out of her."

"Tenth suspects Xae knows where the spell is," Lex said, following Jensen's train of thought. Realization flared to life in his gray eyes. "You think Tenth wants the Twice-Born to _use_ it."

Jensen nodded.

Lex lowered his hand from his lips, shaking his head slightly as he regarded Jensen gravely. "Why are you telling me this?"

It wasn't as if Jensen had had any _good_ choices since this whole thing began, but what he said was, "I would have asked Lazaro, but I don't know him. I don't know if he'd run back and tell Tenth. You want the world to stay the way it is, and you know Tenth. What I need to know is this: will Tenth try to stop us from freeing Xae and killing the Twice-Born? Are we going to have to fight the Coalescence over this as well as the Twice-Born?" Tension was corded through Jensen's muscles, leaving him taut as a bowstring.

Lex's eyes flickered back and forth between Jensen's for a moment and then he looked away, folding his arms across his chest and cupping his elbows in his hands. "This version of Tenth is new, untested. But they are more political, colder than other versions. I would guess this Tenth would prefer to wait and let things play out. Why should they get their hands dirty ending the world? Other people are already working on it. And if those people fail… it costs Tenth nothing. Tenth can try again another way and no one is ever the wiser." He lifted his right forearm and made a gesture with his hand. "So no, I don't think the Coalescence will interfere. Not this time. Not yet."

Jensen felt a slight sense of relief, knot of dread in his belly coming uncoiled a bit. "Well…" he sighed. "That's one less thing to worry about, at least."

"For now," Lex agreed. "But Jensen…" Lex shook his head, eyes fixed on Jensen. "The danger of carrying that spell… I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. The danger to your mind, not to mention, if anyone ever found out… Not just the ones who'd want to use it, but the ones who'd want to kill you to end the possibility of it ever being used." Lex simply looked at him for a long moment. "You would be hunted to the ends of the earth."

"Once again, thanks for the pep talk," Jensen deadpanned with a fake grin.

Lex ignored the remark. "You realize walking into her lair with this secret in your mind is idiotic."

"I'm aware." Jensen nodded. "But I'm also the Echo and probably the only one who can stop her because of that, so…" Jensen trailed off, lifting his arms out wide from his sides. "You ready for me to take that memory now?"

Lex seemed as if he were about to say something more, and then he merely nodded. "Make sure you take all of it," he said, tone dark.

Jensen had been going to reach for Lex's bare hand, but before he could, Lex reached out, fingertips brushing Jensen's cheekbone and leaned in closer—much closer than he strictly needed to be—and Jensen could smell him, wool and leather and a hint of musk mixed with stronger, warm sandalwood.

"I'm not going to kiss you," Lex said in a low tone, as if he had plucked the concern from Jensen's head—and he probably had, in fact. "Go on, take the memory."

Jensen still wasn't certain how to take memories permanently, but the Valkyrie inside him knew how. Jensen called her to the fore, felt her rise up from within and fill him, his own awareness pushed to the backseat for once.

"Good luck, Jensen," Lex whispered, and then the memory of their conversation began to fill his mind.

A few moments later it was done, Jensen sliding back into the driver's seat and the memory slipping away to… wherever other people's memories went inside his brain.

Lex looked left, then right before his gaze settled on Jensen and he took a step backward. He withdrew his hand, and said, "It's done then."

"What do you remember?"

"I remember everything up to consenting to allowing you to take the memory of our conversation. That's enough."

"Jensen," Crystal's voice called as she approached.

Jensen took another step back from Lex to make sure they were far enough apart, and looked over to see Crystal with a book in her hands, Jared and Alicia following along close behind her.

"That's my cue," Lex said and disappeared in a swarm of shadow that left Jensen with questions, and most of the rest of them with eyerolls.

"Jensen, you know that creature you told me about? The one that attacked you in your apartment? I think I found it." Crystal turned the book around to show Jensen the illustration.

Jensen read the creature's name. "The picture looks like she did in the Meridian. Feeds by…" Jensen read a little further and then looked up at Crystal in confusion. "How can that be possible?"

"It wouldn't be, in the Prime, unless she manifested. So it must be a Meridian ability," Crystal said.

Jensen carried the book back to library and sat down, reading the entry carefully and thoroughly. When he was done, he passed the book around so everyone else could read the information. It was likely Satterwhite was still working with the Twice-Born; better that they were all prepared. After that, he dug deep into research.  
  


*    *    *  


In the time they spent reading, Jared and Jensen discovered there was at least one portal located in Washington DC. It was difficult to get to because it was in the rotunda of the US Capitol Building—a tourist attraction area—and it was magically locked. They also discovered it would be impossible for Jared to create a portal on his own, since it took a tremendous amount of magical energy to create and sustain a portal. Portals to the Umbra, they learned, were generally created by a Gathering—a group of seasoned magic users, usually comprised of five members or more.

When several volumes turned up nothing further, Jensen went back to the magical rolodex. After a few turns through it, he found a portal listing that referenced one of Alvin's journals and pulled it from the shelves. Under the heading referenced, Alvin spoke about a place he referred to as 'the Seam', but he didn't elaborate on it much, and Jensen had to skim the section for mentions of the word portal. After a few pages he found what he was looking for.

_The Seam is like a back door, the space between stitches in the weave. From there you can get to the Prime and the Umbra using the Legacy doors and the Umbral portals, respectively. Years ago, I built the Legacy doors and purposed them to use the Seam as a shortcut. Ever since then, it seems like people forgot about the Seam itself. That makes it a great place to lay low. One of my own escape hatches—_

Jensen blinked, looking up from the book. Carefully, he sat the book down, face open and to the page he'd been reading, and rose from his seat. He moved past Crystal, who was inspecting a jar on one of the shelves, and knelt down in front a shelf that had been converted to smaller, squared sections, forming a row of open boxes that were filled with scrolls. He removed them carefully, one by one, and behind one such stack he found a small, wooden box. On the wooden lid was an engraved fish, painted in shades of chipped blue and yellow, and it looked like a cheap decoration from the 70's.

Jensen lifted the lid, and nestled inside, as the book had said, was a copper colored, old fashioned key. He looked to the left of the shelf, and there, set into a knot of wood so dark he almost missed it, was a small keyhole. He inserted the key, turned it, and then rose, stepping back quickly.

The whole section of shelves and part of the wall itself fell silently inward toward the room, and behind it stood a carved wooden door which had never been painted.

"Alvin, you sly sonofabitch," Jensen whispered, a smile curving his lips.

"What the hell?" Jared muttered, and Jensen could sense them all gather around behind him.

The wood was naturally gray, as if the door had been made from old driftwood, but it looked solid. On the upper cross section of the door was a woman's face, carved with short, flowing hair, her lips curved in a tiny smile bisected by her forefinger in a 'shh' gesture. Her eyes were half-lidded, irises looking down and to the side in a secretive manner.

Jensen reached out, turned the knob and opened the door.

Mist swirled into the library from beyond the open doorway, rolling over Jensen's skin. It seemed to possess no temperature and very little substance; he could barely feel it where it touched him. The mist didn't clear so much as settle lower to the ground, and after a moment, he could see what lay beyond the doorway was a gray landscape. It seemed devoid of any life and eerily silent, and while Jensen knew that didn't mean it was safe, he supposed it was safe enough to take a further look around. Jensen took several steps inside and stopped cold.

"I've been here before," he said, turning in place. "This is the place I saw for a few seconds when I went through the first door at the tailor shop."

He could see parts of DC through the gray mist, the Capitol Building and National Monument rising in the distance, but the space where he stood was an open, wide expanse of gray. Everywhere he looked there were Legacy doors that seemed to rise from nothing, hanging suspended in the air. Further on, closer to the city's edges, he could even see the faint impressions of people walking in the Prime, gray ghosts that swished by. He took one more step inside, seeming to traverse a great distance, and looked backward. The open door to the library was so far away he could barely see the yellow light that shined through its rectangular shape.

A moment later, Jared stood beside him. "What is this place?"

"It's like a space between the Prime and the Umbra. It's how the Legacy doors connect. Your grandfather called it the Seam."

Jared squinted his eyes at the buildings that were considerably closer now that they'd taken a few steps. "If we can get to the Capitol building from here…"

Jensen nodded, picking up on Jared's train of thought. "According to what I read, we should be able to access the portal without being seen or needing a spell."

They took the few steps back toward the library together, meeting Alicia and Crystal and Lazaro, who were standing about at various points inside the Seam, looking at doors.

"I wonder why I saw this place the first time I went through a door?" Jensen wondered aloud.

"Maybe it was an older door and doesn't function as well as it used to," Jared suggested.

The door at the tailor shop had seemed older than some of the others they'd encountered. "That makes about as much sense as any of this." Jensen shrugged.

They all gathered back inside and Jensen closed the door, pushing the shelf back into place to hide it. A few last wisps of mist clung to the room for a moment, and then dissipated.

A little while later, Alicia and Lazaro were filling the rest of them in on what the Umbra was like—which still sounded like a living nightmare to Jensen—when Lex returned. He strode in with a huge, black canvas bag slung across his shoulder and dumped it unceremoniously on the table.

"Your guns," he said, stepping back and making an elegant gesture toward the bag.

" _Our_ guns," Jensen corrected, and unzipped the bag.

There were a variety of handguns contained within the bag, more than enough for all of them to carry two, and the sight of them made Jensen oddly nervous. Spells and creatures and Legacy powers could be dangerous, even deadly, but they didn't seem as frightening as that black bag and its multitude of firearms. It was most likely his unfamiliarity with guns that made him wary, but knowing that didn't change anything. He didn't like them, and he didn't trust them.

Lazaro unpacked the bag, naming the various models—the names for which went in and out of Jensen's head almost instantly—and he laid them out on the table one by one, checking to make sure they were empty of ammunition. Lazaro decided to take everyone in pairs for instruction to make things easier, beginning with Alicia and Jared on the open dance floor side of the bar. That left Jensen and Lex alone in the library, and Jensen decided to show him what they had found in the library during his absence.

The magnetism between them was palpable, Jensen could feel the intensifying of the very air between them like a low grade static charge, and he attempted to push it away. It seemed to grow even greater, distracting him from showing Lex the doorway and what lay beyond, and when they were done, lingering on the inside of the Seam, Jensen paused and fixed the other man with a look.

"Could you _stop_ trying to work your mojo on me," Jensen snapped, irritated.

"I'm not doing anything," Lex said.

"So you say." Jensen regarded the other man with suspicion.

"I assure you, whatever it is you're experiencing, it is of your own doing." The smirk that played about Lex's lips could have indicated he was lying, amused by the situation, or both.

Jensen leaned one shoulder against the doorframe at the edge of the library, mist rolling up from the ground and obscuring him to the knees. "I told you I had another question."

"I assumed you had some ulterior motive in getting me alone," Lex said with a suggestive smile.

Jensen chose to ignore the implication. "When you came through the shadows into the library… you did that in the Prime."

Lex straightened as Jensen asked the question, his gaze lighting upon Jensen with veiled curiosity. "Yes." Lex nodded.

It became clear to Jensen that he would have to lead Lex every step of the way through the conversation—given the discussion they'd had earlier, he had forgotten for a moment that Lex didn't usually volunteer information. "Manifesting in the Prime can be deadly to us—and doesn't it hurt?"

"Yes," Lex said again.

Jensen bit back a sigh and asked his next question. "Then why risk it?"

Lex merely gave him an enigmatic smile.

"You know _my_ secret," Jensen said, not dwelling on the irony of that statement. "You know I'm the Echo."

"Do you believe I owe you something for that?" Lex inquired, casual as he arched a pale brow at Jensen.

Jensen thought about that for a moment and then he sighed and shook his head. "Actually, no."

In the slowly rising and drifting mist, Lex shifted his stance and gave Jensen a glance up and down.

"Let me ask you this, Jensen," Lex said, and tilted his head as he looked at Jensen. "Why do you care?"

He'd known Lex might ask something like this, and he still hadn't been prepared for it. Jensen thought of their earlier conversation that Lex no longer remembered, the one where he'd seen beyond Lex's slick exterior, and pushed past the doubts that clouded him. "The only time I manifested in the Prime, I killed someone," he said, voice quiet. "I couldn't control it." He met Lex's eyes, genuinely curious and confused. "But you… _you_ seem to control it so easily."

"And you wish to know how?" Lex inquired, gaze tightening on Jensen.

Jensen merely nodded.

Lex regarded him silently for a long moment, and then he lifted his gloved left hand, arm bent at the elbow and fingers pointing upward. With the fingers of his right hand, he gripped the leather around his left wrist and slowly peeled it away. As Jensen watched, he blinked, unable to understand what he was seeing. 

Lex's left hand was swirling black shadow formed into long fingers, dissipating at the edges.

"I lost my hand years ago," Lex said, his voice sonorous. "I constantly have to manifest shadow in the Prime to replace it."

He turned his hand back and forth at the wrist to let Jensen get a clear look at it, and then he met Jensen's eyes straight on.

"I'm _always_ in pain."

Lex snapped out the leather glove in his right hand and began to slide it back on his shadow hand. "Traveling through shadows in the Prime doesn't hurt much more. And it's temporary pain. The focus and control it takes to keep my shadow hand constantly functioning makes it seem easy by comparison."

Jensen took a breath, uncertain how to respond, and then he said the first thing that came to mind. "The Coalescence—"

"Has strict rules about manifesting in the Prime, yes, I'm aware," Lex said, unimpressed as he wiggled his fingers inside the glove, tugging the leather tight around his wrist. "I think we both know how much I care."

"Okay, that was the wrong thing to say," Jensen said. "I need a minute to process."

Lex flexed his gloved fingers into a fist and then stretched them straight out. "Don't strain yourself on my account."

"Can't it… can't what you do cause damage to the Prime?" Jensen asked, remembering what he'd read.

"In theory." Lex shrugged. "It's never been an issue. But then, I've never used my power offensively in the Prime."

Jensen thought that was an interesting point. "You think it's offensive power that damages the weave?"

"I believe it's possible that is the case." Lex lowered his hand to his side. "Using power in the Prime takes practice. But you should also know…" Lex looked away from him and sighed as he lowered his hands to his sides. "I'm a hybrid. My mother was one as well. My mother was half Succubus, half Wraith, and my father was a pure-blooded Incubus. Both pure-blooded Legacies, but of different descents. I'm three-quarters Incubus, one-quarter Wraith, all Legacy."

Jensen was stunned by the revelation, taking several long seconds to form a response. "I thought… I thought two Legacies of different descents couldn't reproduce?"

"So the Coalescence would have you believe." Lex made a grandiose motion toward himself. "I'm living proof that they can. Although I appear to be an exception."

"Does the Coalescence know?"

Lex lifted one shoulder, seeming to hedge. "Extremely doubtful. They're bloodline purists. Even if they did know hybrids were possible they wouldn't say anything. They wouldn't want Legacies attempting to crossbreed."

"A quarter… Wraith?" Jensen asked. "Then that's why…" Jensen trailed off, trying to add it all up.

"That's why I have shadow abilities in addition to my Incubus abilities," Lex finished for him, nodding. "The mixture of my two bloodlines may be what allows me to manifest in the Prime without doing harm. Or it may simply be that I use non-aggressive abilities in the Prime. It may be a combination of both. The fact remains that I am relatively unique, and you should not attempt to imitate my success. Especially not when you can immolate things."

Jensen huffed out a humorless laugh.

"Now you know _my_ secret," Lex said. "You'll tell no one, of course." The way Lex phrased it, it wasn't a question.

"Of course," Jensen agreed. He didn't have a choice, for one—Lex could equally rat him out as the Echo to the Coalescence—and for two, somewhere beyond the suspicion, beyond the potential influence of Lex upon him, he thought he might actually like Lex.

"Why did you tell me that?" Jensen asked after a moment.

"Because we both know your secret is far more likely to bring down the wrath of the Coalescence. But also…" Lex paused. "Because there is something remarkably likeable about you, Jensen Ackles," Lex said, seeming to ponder Jensen with those pale eyes. He tipped his head then, and gave Jensen a sharp smile. "But don't mistake that for friendship."

"Noted," Jensen said, and nodded. It seemed right somehow to pause there for a few seconds and give their exchange the respect that seemed due. After those few seconds had passed, Jensen asked, "When we're in the Umbra, will it be like when we manifest? Since we'll be using our Legacy forms and abilities there?"

"That's why you wanted to know," Lex said, as if finally understanding Jensen's intent. "It's different in the Umbra. It doesn't resist Legacy blood like the Prime does. That's what makes manifesting in the Prime so difficult and painful and dangerous: reality itself resists our Legacy power." 

Jensen hadn't known that, but it wasn't exactly the reassurance he'd been hoping for. "So I won't be putting anyone in danger?"

"It will be like using your abilities in the Meridian. You'll see."

Jensen took a moment to think about that. "You've been there?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Not all of me came back," Lex said, meaningfully as he raised his gloved hand. "And no, I'm not going to tell you that story," he added, before Jensen could ask. "I can't tell you _all_ my secrets."

"Fair enough," Jensen agreed.

There was a pause as Lex appraised him.

"I see you are no longer trying to hide." Lex made a motion to indicate Jensen's hair.

"It was time." Jensen ran his fingers through his newly short hair and thought of Jared's reaction to his new haircut, the way Jared had kissed him and touched him freely earlier.

"Ugh." Lex wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You care about him so much you reek of it. You're almost making _me_ want to like him."

Jensen's mouth curved in a smile. "Good." If Lex were going to pick up on any of Jensen's thoughts, it may as well have been those.

A moment later, Lazaro called for them, and they went back out into the main area of the bar to take their crash course in learning firearms.  
  


*    *    *

 

After Lazaro was satisfied that they all knew how to practice basic safety, load and unload and fire the guns, they made their last preparations. Jared armored himself with various spells and sigils for protection, and Jensen watched him uneasily. He didn't like the idea of Jared coming with them, Jared being only human, but he knew there was no point in trying to stop Jared from coming. They would all simply have to do their best at keeping him safe.

Crystal was of some concern to Jensen as well; she wasn't much of a fighter, and Jensen would have made her stay behind if they hadn't required her keen sense of direction. As it stood, the needed her to keep them from becoming lost in the Umbra and to find their way back to the Prime when this was all done. Jensen suggested Jared cast a few protection spells on her as well and neither of them protested. He supposed Crystal was probably nervous about her own well-being, although she wouldn't have let it stop her.

Lazaro, Alicia, and Lex, on the other hand, seemed ready. Jensen knew Lex wasn't much of a fighter either, but he could use his power to dissipate into shadow to keep himself safe. Lazaro, Alicia and Jensen would do most of the physical fighting, the rest of them had their guns, and Jensen had to hope that was enough.

Jensen felt awkward strapping thigh holsters onto his legs and settling guns into them, and based on everyone else's body language, they weren't comfortable with it either. He supposed they were lucky they had holsters at all; it would have been worse if he'd had to stick guns in the waistband of his jeans. He would have been constantly worried about them going off, safety mechanism in place or not.

They made a final few adjustments and then set out through the library door, closing it carefully behind them after Jensen made sure the key was secured in one of his zippered motorcycle jacket pockets.

The expanse of gray was unbroken except for the Legacy doors that hung suspended in the air here and there, the dark colors of their paint seeming shockingly bright in contrast. The sound of their feet against the ground was strangely muffled, almost as if the mist around them absorbed the sound. As before, it took them few steps to traverse a great distance, and they were upon the city before they knew it. Jensen wondered if they'd walked in another direction if they would have stumbled upon Maryland, or perhaps Northern Virginia. As it was, he had to guess they'd entered from the library into a field somewhere outside the city.

Everything was bereft of color and seemed just out of phase, like a double negative, duplicate pictures overlaid with one slightly tilted. They literally walked through dozens of people on the sidewalk, Jensen trailing his hand through the shape of a man wearing a baseball cap as they passed him. He startled as he came to face with a colorless woman, bracing instinctively for impact, and then she passed through him with less substance than smoke. The ground and the walls and the stairs felt solid, although they appeared as hazy as the people around them, and Jensen wondered if, with a bit of effort, they could have passed through those as well. 

They passed the Washington Monument rising tall into the open sky, and then down Madison Drive, past the Smithsonian and along the Mall. Still, it took them mere moments to reach the Capitol Building, even though they'd been forced to follow the streets, and they mounted the steps past the reflecting pool amidst a crowd of smoke-people, pouring with them through the doors like an insubstantial school of fish.

Although it was impossible to miss along the city skyline, and Jensen had passed by it several times, he had never been inside the building before. He was amazed by the beauty of the architecture; the high, arched hallways with wooden panels that were individually painted with intricate art designs, the curved ceiling above them painted designs just as lovely and although he couldn't tell for sure, since it was all shades of gray, he guessed they were backlit, warm light shining through soft colors. It was grandiose and elegant, yet warm and welcoming.

"I haven't been here since they finished remodeling," Jared remarked, looking up and around.

They flowed with the crowd toward the center of the building, and the hall opened into a huge, circular room.

"They did a great job," Jared commented.

Large oil paintings covered the marble walls, equally spaced and spanning the circumference of the room, separated by pillars carved halfway into the walls. What style they were painted in, Jensen couldn't have said—they looked like normal old-fashioned paintings to him—all he knew for certain was that they weren't Renaissance. Above the paintings, ringing the entire room and carved in bas relief from pale marble against a black background, were men from every time period in the United States, stages of dress through the decades and centuries all the way back to the first colonists' arrival. Strangely, some seemed to go back beyond US History: there were what looked like Roman soldiers there as well.

Further up was a ring of windows with arched tops, and above that the ceiling began to draw into a dome, decorative pattern inset to absorb sound as it reached toward the top. In the center of the ceiling, several stories above their heads, was painted a mural detailing people Jensen couldn't identify, although he could say with some degree of certainty that it was done in Renaissance style. 

"John F. Kennedy's state funeral was held in this room." Jared's voice was hushed, but Jensen could detect the undercurrent of enjoyment his tone always took on when discussing history. "They had his coffin carried here by a horse drawn caisson from the White House."

"Please continue, I was almost asleep," Lex commented, droll.

Jared seemed to take extreme pleasure in adding, "Representatives from over ninety countries attended. It was considered the largest gathering of foreign statesmen in the history of the United States. Also the largest gathering of foreign dignitaries at a state funeral since King Edward the Seventh all the way back in 1910."

A movement at the corner of Jensen's vision drew his eye. It was one of the paintings—the one that depicted a young woman kneeling before a priest in a long, flowing white dress amongst a large crowd of colonists. As he looked at it, it rippled and then flickered like an electronic image shorting out.

"I think I found our portal," Jensen murmured, walking through the ghosts of people toward the painting.

The painting seemed much larger up close than it had from a distance—somewhere around twelve feet tall and maybe twenty feet wide. A marble stand rose from the floor at in front of it to about hip height, the front cut at a slant downward and away from the wall. The words etched into the metal plate fastened there identified it as 'Baptism of Pocahontas'. There was an explanation of its history below that, but there was something else, too, letters superimposed over the ones etched in reality. They seemed smudged, like charcoal against the air, and Jensen couldn't make sense of the letters he could see.

Jared walked up beside him, and Jensen pointed to the words that seemed to waver in and out of existence. "Can you read that?"

"Tantum carnicula," Jared read, trailing his fingers over the metal sign. "It says, 'Only flesh'."

"Like 'only flesh' can go through?" Alicia asked, brow creasing as she squinted at the letters.

Jensen took a breath. "Let's hope that's a warning to spirits, because if we go through and end up naked on the other side, we're screwed."

"It's a warning to spirits," Lex said from behind him. "As entertaining as all of us ending up naked on the other side would be," he added, and Jensen couldn't tell if he was being serious or sarcastic.

In the painting, there were probably slightly more than two dozen people gathered around to watch the Baptism of Pocahontas, and as Jensen looked them over, their faces seemed to shift, shivering.

"All right then." Jensen stepped up onto one of the leather covered settees to one side of the plaque, planning to swing his leg over the edge of the frame—

As one, every face in the painting turned to look at him.

Jensen's heart lurched and his mind blanched as he took an involuntary step backward and fell off the couch, hair on his arms standing up on end.

Jared caught him, righting him on his feet.

The faces in the painting changed, features twisting and running like melted wax, eyes deepening into dark, empty sockets, mouths falling open in silent screams.

"Jesus," Crystal whispered.

"Welcome to the Umbra," Lex said, sardonic. "This is just the pre-show."

"Definitely not Disneyland," Jensen declared in a low, rushed breath as he stepped back up onto the couch and swung his leg over the frame. He averted his eyes from the painting and balanced himself on the frame for a moment before he took a breath, pulled his leg through to the other side and leapt down.

He landed on his feet easily, finding there was a small space behind the painting. Light filtered in through the painting frame behind him, pale and weak and dishwater gray. Before him was an oval shaped, swirling vortex made of black smoke, dark, shadowy arms and legs scrabbling at the edge of the opening. As Alicia jumped down beside him, it changed from a whirling vortex to a flat, smooth mirror that reflected the two of them perfectly, their bodies mostly silhouetted by backlight, and that image was somehow more unnerving than phantom limbs reaching from beyond.

Alicia reached over and took his hand, fingers clasping his tightly, and blood began to drip down the mirrors surface, running in rivulets.

Jared jumped down beside Alicia. Her fingers fell away from Jensen's as the mirror moved like quicksilver, dividing in half and running together at the top to form an open doorway, reflective surface dulling and hardening into stone. It continued to change while the others came through the painting; a huge rip hanging in mid-air, light spilling through it; the base of a huge, hollow tree with a triangular opening, its shadowy recesses filled with beetles; a yawning black hole with stars spinning at its edges.

The six of them were clustered together in front of the ever-shifting portal, Jensen at the forefront, and he realized for the first time, that somewhere along the way, he'd become the leader of this group. The idea was so ridiculous it was all he could do not to laugh. He couldn't keep the smile from his face though, and he supposed it was better to walk into hell wearing a grin than being as terrified as he felt deep down inside.

Alicia and Jared stood at his back, their warmth palpable. Even though he knew it was a portal and neither one of them would be left behind, Jensen still reached behind him, twining the fingers of one hand through Jared's and holding tight, other slipping across Alicia's and gripping her palm to palm. He squeezed them both in unison, and then, as one, they stepped forward together through the threshold.

  
[ ](https://ibb.co/kHnizJ)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)


	12. Chapter 12

For a moment, Jensen was confused.

They were still standing in the rotunda of the Capitol Building. Or, more accurately, they were standing in it again. Everything looked exactly the same, except…

Jensen turned in a slow circle, realizing the world was rendered in color again. It was dull color, faded, as if everything had sat in the sun for years and been bleached of its vibrancy, but it was a step above shades of gray, black and white. Behind them, the portal hung in front of the painting they'd come through. It was a carved stone oval now, rippling surface like water in the center, and on the outsides of the oval, gripping it tightly, were two carved creatures with the head and forequarters of an eagle, feathers descending into the furry hindquarters of a lion. Gryphons, they were called, if Jensen's memory served.

"Well, that's slightly less menacing," he remarked, and then stopped. His voice had a strange quality to it, like dozens of barely audible whispers wrapped around it. It wasn't a transcendent song like the Valkyrie's voice; this was more subtle, sly, and almost certainly an effect of where they were.

"Jensen, the paintings," Crystal said, sounding breathless, and Jensen turned away from the portal to look.

People bereft of clothing pressed against the edges of the canvas, their features distorted as if viewed through thick sheets of plastic. Hands and facial features bulged from within, and as Jensen watched, the hand of one pushed through with a resounding 'pop' that echoed in the emptiness of the rotunda. 

From behind them came the sound of stone cracking and Jensen spun, paintings momentarily forgotten.

Sharp, gray claws gripped the edge of the portal, tiny cracks spread out from the holes each talon pierced in the stone, and the granite seemed to bubble and bulge beneath the strength of its grip. Stone began to crumble as the other Gryphon's head turned in their direction with a grating, thunderous sound, vicious beak parting to reveal a pointed, alien tongue. It hissed at them, stone feathers rising on the back of its neck.

"Time to go," Jensen said and grabbed Jared by the hand, blindly reaching out for Alicia as well, his eyes fixed on the Gryphons.

Loud, thick, popping sounds erupted from all around them, followed by the rushing sound of something liquid, and Jensen yanked Jared along, running for the hallway toward the front door. Thick, black liquid like ichor rushed to fill the room, pouring from the empty paintings, and strangely pale, faceless bodies crawled like blind worms through the mess, reaching out to grab at them as they passed. Jensen slipped, foot sliding on polished marble through black wetness to one knee, and pushed back to his feet, rushing ahead, clinging to Jared's hand.

They burst through the doors at the front of the building and Jensen spun, instantly ready to shut them or face down whatever was still chasing them. He came to a halt as the doors melted, sealing together, smoothing over to become solid stone.

"Are we safe?" Crystal asked, panting out the words. If Jensen's voice was wrapped in sly whispers, Crystal's seemed to travel like sunlight through water, rippling and slightly distorted at the edges.

Jensen stared at the place they'd exited the building, seeing no signs of doors ever having existed there, and slowly shook his head. "I think we were safer inside." He looked up at the sky and its sickly shade of blue and then around at the distorted cityscape.

"The portal's in there," Alicia said, stepping forward to touch the smooth stone.

"Something in here wants us all to itself," Lex said as he glanced around, and Jensen felt goosebumps skitter down his arms.

Of them all, only Lazaro seemed unaffected, rifle slung across the front of his body cradled in one hand, other resting on the grip, his expression alert and aware as he surveyed the streets around them with his dark eyes. He had changed back into his black suit vest, pants, tie, and white button up rolled to the elbows. Two handguns were strapped to his thighs and two were held in double side holsters, second rifle strap slung diagonally across his chest in the other direction, gun resting against his back, and he was wearing a bandolier bullet belt beneath both straps. Between his clothing, firepower, tattoos and dead calm he cut one hell of an impressive picture. Jensen felt safer just having him there.

"Seems like we're alone for now," Lazaro said. Now that Jensen knew to listen for the difference in their voices, it was easy enough to hear. Lazaro's voice had the faintest rasp of whiskey-edge, the barest touch of a crackle to it like the sound of flames.

"Now that we're here," Alicia said, turning away from space where the doors used to be, "do we know where we're going?" Alicia's voice seemed somehow clearer, more melodic, a ring to it like silver bells. 

"Rift creatures give off a type of energy that stands out, even here," Jared said as he knelt on the stairs, slinging the pack from his back. His voice sounded completely normal. "I need some time to cast a locator spell, but we'll find her."

"Are you certain the spell won't turn on you here?" Lex's voice was almost exactly the same as it was in the Prime, except it was even smoother, even darker honey, a fact which Jensen found extremely unfair.

"I guess we'll find out," Jared said with a shrug.

From his pack, Jared pulled out a notebook, a small metal bowl and several small glass bottles filled with leaves and powders and what looked like some sort of scales. As he flipped open the notebook to presumably check what the spell required, Jensen turned, eyes traveling over the expanse of the city laid out before them. 

It was Washington DC, but it wasn't, the building landscape twisted and malformed. In the distance, the Washington Monument still rose, but it was made of dark, sharp spikes of jagged stone that rose to a point, like some sort of skinny, demonic mountain. Most of the city was dark, bent and twisted, some buildings hunkered low to the ground like monsters in wait and others loomed incredibly high, far beyond their normal dimensions. 

When Jensen had wondered why the buildings in DC were so much shorter than those in New York, Jared had explained Washington DC had a law that only allowed buildings to reach 130 feet in height, and the only exception to that law were buildings and structures that had been built before 1910. Some of the buildings Jensen was looking at were at least twice that height, some as many as three times, and they loomed over the shorter buildings ominously. Some of them seemed possessed of sentience, and Jensen could swear half a dozen windows looked back at him like eyes.

There was something else odd about it, too, something Jensen couldn't immediately place, but once he did, it seemed obvious. There were no cars, no people, no signs of any human life at all, and while Jensen supposed that made sense, it lent the city a particular creepy stillness even beyond its appearance. 

A movement in the reflecting pool drew his eyes. The water was dark brown, nearly black as compared to the blue of it in the Prime, and something massive moved just beneath the surface, long and covered in scales that made the water ripple before it vanished from sight. Jensen didn't know what the depth of the reflecting pool was in the Prime, but he was sure it wasn't deep enough to hold something that size.

"Revelare."

Behind him, Jared began reciting words in Latin, voice subdued, and Jensen turned to see him bent over the small metal bowl, match held in his hand, tiny yellow flare of light that flickered before he dropped it into the bowl. Dried leaves and powder ignited in a small flash, sending up plumes of pink smoke, silver sparks dancing through it. The smoke drifted upward, hanging strangely on the still air, but the sparks continued to rise, spinning around each other as if in excitement, and then they wove together, forming a slender silver cord. The cord darted past Jared, raced down into the city and vanished down the length of a street lined with gnarled trees.

As Jared continued to speak softly, Jensen saw symbols begin to light up on his skin, forearms glowing with pink-purple energy. Beneath his t-shirt, below his collarbone and close to his heart, another symbol glowed through the thin material, and in the center of his forehead, the eye Jensen had painted there with his thumb appeared. Jared finished speaking and the silver cord's other end rose from the bowl and pierced Jared's chest, his whole body flashing with silver light for an instant before it, and the silver cord, vanished. 

"I can feel her," Jared said, voice still low.

"What does it feel like?" Alicia asked.

Jared stayed still and glanced back and forth at the ground, as if surveying himself internally. "Like something… wrong. Like something we should be going _away_ from instead of towards."

"Sounds about right," Lazaro commented, his eyes still scanning the city. "We should get moving before it gets dark."

In the distance, the sky was beginning to pinken, blaring orb of a white sun descending along the cityscape, and Jensen wasn't possessed of the best direction sense, but he was fairly sure it wasn't setting in the west. He glanced up at the sky overhead with apprehension, wishing they had gotten there earlier. He didn't relish the thought of trying to make their way through the streets in the dark.

Then again, for all he knew, sunrise and sunset were random in the Umbra. It could have been night time all the time; he supposed they were lucky to have any daylight at all.

Jared packed up, and packs set on everyone's backs, they started off down toward the Mall. It was still a huge open field like in the Prime, but the grass was tall, nearly as high as Jensen's waist, and there were strange, huge flowers that lurked amongst the grass. As they passed by, one of them lurched at Jensen, its red petals curling to form a sharp edged mouth—

A gunshot rang out, deafeningly loud, and the flower exploded into red confetti and pulpy green juice that spattered the thin blades of grass. Jensen's arm was still intact; Lazaro had shot it before its mouth could close on Jensen. 

"Thanks," Jensen breathed, his brain still processing what had happened.

Lazaro simply nodded.

Jensen took point on one of Jared's sides, Alicia on the other as Jared led them. Jensen laced his fingers through Jared's, the warmth of Jared's touch reassuring him somewhat. He noticed that Alicia did the same thing on Jared's other side. Lex and Lazaro fanned out to either side of them, walking just behind, and Crystal stayed close to Jensen's back, placing one hand on Jensen's shoulder after a few minutes.

The sun slowly sank toward the horizon as they walked, and the sky turned the color of blood. The roads in the inverted version of DC were different than the ones Jensen knew, and some of them led to nowhere at all, causing them to have to backtrack several times. Some of them disappeared into corridors of shadow beneath the spectres of dead trees that swayed, seeming to rustle together eagerly at their approach. Those streets, they avoided completely. And one particular street led into a swirling vortex that dipped down out of the sky like a tornado, asphalt winding upward like a ribbon into the whirling cone of its end.

"Where do you think it leads?" Lex asked. 

"I'm guessing not Oz," Alicia replied as she turned away from the sight. 

Night fell, the sky turning a deep hue of purple, but instead of brilliant stars scattered through its expanse, millions of tiny eyes blinked down at them. The moon rose, and the face of the man inside it stared directly at them, leaving Jensen uncertain as to whether or not the light it provided was worth it. Just beyond where they could see, in the shadows of the buildings and trees they passed, strange things cavorted and capered, their movements only visible from the corner of Jensen's eyes, and once he heard the skittering limbs of something very large coming from one of the side streets.

Fog began to rise from the ground, mist twining about their feet, and Jensen hoped like hell it wouldn't climb any higher than that. As it rose, they tightened formation, Lex moving in close to Jensen and placing a hand over Crystal's on Jensen's shoulder. Mist continued to drift upward as they went on, and soon they walked blind through heavy white sheets that clung with sickly warmth to their skin.

Something shuffled in the fog. Jensen couldn't tell where; the fog seemed to play with the sound, moving it around. Jensen heard the scrape of something dragging, the squelching thump of a step. Behind him—he was sure of it—and he let go of Jared's hand, spinning.

Crystal almost ran into him and he took her by the shoulders, putting her firmly behind him. Lex turned with him, walking a few steps backward, his black clad form visible a few feet into the mist. Hackles stood up on the back of Jensen's neck, fingers brushing the handles of the guns strapped to his thighs. He took a few steps backward, surprised when he didn't encounter Crystal, looked around and realized he could no longer see Lex, either. He'd gotten separated from everyone, somehow.

Jared," he called out, and he could the desperation in his voice, those sly, whispered voices clinging to his.

No one answered. Something that wasn't human scuffled, drawing closer. There were things in the fog around them, Jensen could _feel_ them more than see them as they drew closer, tighter, forming a noose around him. Vague, misshapen forms slowly solidify from the mist, silhouettes slanted and loping, jagged jerks and the pull of muscles all wrong. Mist was wreathed around them like smoke as they ambled toward him, circle closing tight, trapping him.

He didn't know where the others were, and even if he had called out, the fog was toying with the direction of sound. His heart hammered in his chest, skin cold and clammy with sweat, fear tightening another notch, closer to snapping.

Jensen calculated the space between two shadows and rushed the gap. His feet pounded against asphalt in time with the desperate thudding of his heart, and he could feel their hands reach to grab him, skin curdling like milk at the barest graze of ragged fingernails. He hurtled beyond them and prayed the street held out, that he wouldn't go face-first into a building or something worse.

The fog grew thicker, scent rotten like the sickly-sweet smell of death, and from behind him echoed an army of ungainly footsteps. His eyes were useless in the haze, and he would have bet money they didn't need theirs to find him.

Desperation brought a fresh wave of speed, his feet flying, boots barely touching ground, arms pumping, heart thrumming. From further behind him, the sound of thundering footsteps pursued.

He ran until his lungs burned, until his legs screamed in protest, a thin, red line dividing preservation from exertion. At last the fog began to break, scattering away as he moved through it, and the shapes of staggered buildings began to grow at the edge of his vision. The last of the fog pulled from him like a lover's hands that fought to hold on, and it released completely only when he grunted and tore free with sheer force.

He stopped, realizing he wasn't on the street anymore. In front of him rose a hill that sloped slowly upward and away from him, rising to meet the night sky. Gravestones dotted its expanse, gray headstones that rose up from the ground like teeth, and he realized the buildings he'd seen were small mausoleums, slender pillars supporting the tilted roofs engraved with family names. Statues rose at various points between the buildings and the headstones, but they weren't angels or saints, their faces obscured by hoods that descended into long, sweeping cloaks, or covered by one of half a dozen sets of hands attached to their bodies. 

Light ground mist wound its way through the graveyard, drifting tendrils that snaked up the hill without seeming to have any intent. There were several trees scattered about, but Jensen's eye was drawn to the one at the top of the hill, its dark branches full and skeletal, reaching for the sky. Beside it stood a human figure, and it took a moment for Jensen's brain to process that, staring at the slender, feminine figure for long seconds before he broke into a run toward it. 

She was more of a silhouette against the sky than a tangible form, and he thought she might be an illusion until his hand fell on her shoulder, solid and real. It took him another second to realize something felt wrong, and by then she was turning to face him.

She'd been dead a long time; mouth frozen open in a silent scream, empty eye sockets fixed on his face, strands of long hair melted into the flesh that remained on her cheeks. Charred chunks of blackened flesh clung to her bones, muscle and tendon pulled all wrong, bunched together in some places and distended in others.

"Jenss-sehn," she hissed, rotten tongue squirming inside her dangling jaw.

Jensen staggered backward in horror and almost fell. Her scorched, bony hand snaked out, claws sinking into the flesh of his forearm and catching him, dragging him back toward her.

"Jenss-sehn," she hissed again, and her breath was fetid, putrid with rot and pungent with char. "Dosshuu ecogizze eeee?"

An involuntary sound of revulsion erupted from Jensen's throat and he tried to yank away, feet slipping against the wet grass.

Dark laughter bubbled up from the woman's chest, foul breath hitting his face like a swarm of bats, and he could feel _things_ wriggling on his cheeks, his lips. His heart rabbitted in his chest, thundering louder in his ears than he'd ever heard it, blood rushing ice cold though his veins, and pressure built in his chest, pushing a scream up the back of his throat. His throat was locked tight against the sound and he felt like he was strangling, her face pushing closer to his, tongue worming about inside her mouth, and he felt sick with decay, with death, the urge to give up and let her kill him overwhelming.

Fire ignited in a rush along his bones, flaring to life across his skin, and he felt the slight weight of wings rise up and out from between his shoulder blades. Fear left him as if the fire had erased it from existence, and he reached out, blood singing and beginning to warm again as he shoved his free hand to her throat, fingers fastening around it firmly. Instantly, fire leaped from his skin to the remainder of her blackened flesh, searing rush of it racing to consume her completely. A scream of agony poured from her and she let go of him, trying to wrench free of his grip. He held her tightly, willing the flame to burn brighter, hotter, faster, and watched as she began to disintegrate within his grip.

With a final cry, she burst into a cloud of black ash that drifted downward, last few cinders trailing orange down to the headstone she'd been standing in front of.

The name on it read 'Nikki Fortune', and Jensen understood all at once that it had been her—or what had been left of her, at least.

Logically, he knew there had been so little of her left that they couldn't tell her remains weren't his, so it couldn't have been her. Logically, he knew this place was screwing with his head. But his logic wasn't on the front burner just then, guilt and belated adrenaline coursing through him as he fell to his knees. He almost wished the Valkyrie hadn't come to his aid. He almost wished he had let her kill him. It was no less than he deserved for what he'd done to her, and it would have saved the world a lot of trouble if he just died. 

He panted as his heart slowed, and when he could finally breathe somewhat normally, he reached out, fingers touching cool stone, running along the letters etched there.

'Nikki Fortune', and beneath that, in smaller letters, 'Her flame burned too bright'. Distantly, his mind recognized the twisted joke of the epitaph.

"You killed me," said a female voice, low and dark in timbre.

The voice came from behind him, and Jensen didn't turn to look. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Well, as long as you're _sorry_ ," she snarled.

Footsteps moved around Jensen, and he looked up as she stopped behind the gravestone, looking down at him. Her skin was dark and intact, cheeks and nose wide with a lean jaw, her lips large and beautifully shaped, well-rounded and full. Her eyes were dark and wide-set, critical as they surveyed Jensen, and her hair was free, hanging just past her shoulders in extremely loose, thin curls, and her body was generously curvy. She was wearing the remains of a simple black dress with thin shoulder straps, length ending abruptly at mid-thigh and angling downward with a ragged edge across her other leg, holes ripped along the edges.

"What have you done with the power you stole?" she asked, voice strident. "With the life you traded? Look at you, kneeling in the grass feeling sorry for yourself, ready to give up." Her upper lip curled with disgust. "It should have been you that died," she said, staring down at him with hatred that blazed nearly as brightly as Jensen's fire.

"I know," Jensen said again. She wasn't saying anything he hadn't already thought before. "I wish it had been."

"Wishing don't change nothing, boy," she told him with a scowl. "Wishing won't give me my life back." She stalked around the gravestone, putting herself in the small space between Jensen and the stone and shoved him backward. His shoulders hit the cool ground, scattering mist about him, and she walked with each foot on the outside of his legs until she reached his midsection, straddling his abdomen. 

"Give it back," she demanded, eyes narrowing on him.

"I can't." Jensen shook his head, guilt filling him to the brim.

"Then I'll take it," she said, darkly, and knelt, straddling his belly as her hands closed around his neck.

Jensen's eyes slipped closed and he could feel his power beginning to fade, Valkyrie leaving him. She was draining it from him, and he was letting her. She deserved to have it back, she deserved to have her life back. Deep inside him, the Echo began to vibrate and he pushed it back, tried to force it down. It had caused enough trouble. 

The abrupt sound of a gunshot rang out, and the fingers closed around his throat let go as his eyes sprang open. Nikki's eyes were wide, ragged, black hole torn in the center above them, and then her body began to fall forward, her face rushing toward Jensen's. He twisted his head to the side, avoiding her face smacking into his, and then he grabbed her body by the shoulders, rolling her off him.

"Jensen." Jared's voice was breathless as he dropped to the ground beside Jensen.

Jensen sat up from the grass and Jared's arms locked around his shoulders, hugging him close. Beyond the gravestone, he could see the others, Lazaro still holding his rifle pointed straight ahead, Crystal and Lex flanking him, Alicia already on her way to Jensen's other side.

Jensen turned, burying his face in Jared's neck, inhaling a deep breath of Jared's scent into his lungs, and then Jared pulled his face up, kissing him hard on the mouth.

"I thought we lost you," Jared whispered as he pulled back.

"No, I just…" Jensen trailed off as he looked over at the woman on the ground.

Nikki's dead body seemed to shrink, curling in on itself. As he watched, form and feature melted away, leaving smooth, hairless, dark green skin, arms and legs too long in proportion to the body, fingers and toes similarly elongated. Its face was blank except for the ragged bullet hole and two nostrils shaped like apostrophes, and its head was shaped like an egg, too large for its spindly neck. 

"What… what is that?"

"Whatever it was, it was draining your life force," Lex said. "I know my own moves when I see them."

"I was going to… let it kill me," Jensen said in wonder, one hand rising to touch the hollow of his throat. Now that the thing was dead, he could think again, guilt receding like a wave. It didn't leave him completely, settling down in the spot it usually occupied. The creature hadn't needed to create it in him, but it had drawn on the power of it.

"This place has a way of convincing you you want to be dead," Lex replied. "It gets inside your head and embellishes your fears, your guilt, your shame. It feeds the weaknesses in you until you can't think around them."

Jensen looked at Lex and wondered what this place had shown him.

"Alicia and I got separated from everyone for a while," Crystal said and glanced over at Alicia. "It was… scary." The look they shared attested to how harrowing the experience had been, but neither of them said anything more.

Alicia did a quick check of Jensen's throat and vitals, during which Lazaro sat down on the headstone to keep watch. Crystal sat down to rest in the grass near Jensen while Lex wandered over to one of the mausoleums. Alicia was almost done when Jensen noticed the name on the headstone had changed.

It was his own.

Jared gave him a hand up and when he was on his feet, he turned, looking at the other nearby headstones. The next one over from Jensen's read, 'Alicia Dominique Bennet', and beneath that, 'Deserved better'. The next read, 'Jared Tristan Padalecki', and beneath that, 'He died screaming your name'. Jensen quit reading after that. He could guess what the others said, anyway.

"How did you guys find me?" he asked.

"Your labrador retriever did a spell," came Lex's droll reply.

Jared cut a nasty look in Lex's direction and then took Jensen's hand firmly in his. "We're almost there. You ready?"

"Rarely, if ever," Jensen replied with a smirk as he let Jared pull him to his feet

They walked over the hill and found their way back to the street, following the dark surface of it until they reached a residential area. It started out with fairly normal looking townhomes that descended in quality as they progressed, the final few dilapidated, their windows broken and doors hanging askew. Past the row stood a dark house, bleak and alone.

"That's it," Jared said, tremor in his voice. "That house is where the spell has been leading me."

As if on cue, Jared's body flashed with silver light, the symbols on his skin lighting up, and the silver cord reappeared for an instant before it snapped and vanished.

Together, they stepped off the street onto the grass. The moon was behind them, but the eyes in the sky still blinked down at them.

The Victorian house sat on a corner lot comprised of packed dirt and overgrown reedy weeds, a thin, short wrought iron fence tilting crazily back and forth around it, sections of it gone, pulled out like missing teeth. Dead trees sprouted from the ground like specters, bent and twisted into strange shapes whose pale branches clawed desperately for the sky. The house loomed impossibly tall against the bleak horizon, black silhouette cut from steel gray and green clouds, and Jensen experienced a weird sense of inverse vertigo as he stared up at it.

Dark wood seemed to swell and breathe with a life all its own, its body coiled tight with anticipation. Twin windows above the doorway blazed violently red for an instant, a pair of predatory eyes that dared—no, _begged_ them to enter. Jensen blinked and the lines of the building straightened again, forming a solid, imposing wooden structure. A sliver of ice worked its way between the notches of Jensen's spine, sending shivers down the length.

"I don't…" Jensen shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. "I don't like this."

"It feels angry," Jared whispered.

"You know," Crystal spoke up from the back of the group, "I'm just saying, maybe everything here wouldn't be _so angry_ if they tried redecorating. Feng Shui, ever heard of it? I mean _look_ at this place, it screams 'I hate myself'."

The house seemed to diminish a bit, and its spell over Jensen seemed to break with her words. The entire group turned to look at her.

Unaffected by their gazes, she walked between them to the gate, throwing out one hand in the direction of the house. "I mean _come on_ . This is not the smart monster bet for luring in unsuspecting victims. They might as well put up a sign that says, 'Come on in, we've got murder!'. Add a few gravestones out front and _Scooby Doo_ would probably show up."

She sounded disgusted, genuinely offended, and Jensen couldn't hold back the snort of laughter that left him.

"Subtlety isn't the Twice-Born's strong suit," he agreed, wry.

"Subtlety isn't this whole _plane's_ strong suit," she corrected. "It's like a Cthulhu diva having a meltdown."

Jensen laughed again, surprised, and far more relaxed than he'd been a moment ago. "I thought…" He wasn't sure how to say what he meant without coming off as insulting. He hadn't expected this kind of attitude from her. She was so new to it all, and she seemed so meek when it came to Legacy experiences.

"You're not scared?" he finally asked.

"Are you kidding? I'm _terrified_ ," she said with a shrill laugh. "I'm gonna need therapy for thirty years after this. But now I'm so scared that _I'm_ angry—and I am _not_ the bitch you wanna mess with when I'm pissed."

"Damned right," Alicia agreed with a smile. She took Crystal's hand between her own and squeezed briefly before letting go. "Let's get in there and kick her ass." 

"Looks like there's a storm cellar entrance on the side," Lazaro said with a nod in the direction of the side of the house. "Could give us the advantage."

Jensen walked around to the side, the others following him, and there, as Lazaro had said, was a storm cellar, double shuttered doors carved with a craftsmanship Jensen recognized immediately.

"What are your grandfather's doors doing here?" Jensen asked, cutting a sidelong look at Jared.

"I don't know." Jared shook his head slightly. "But I'm betting they don't lead to a cellar."

"I guess we'll find out," Jensen said and grabbed the doors by their handles, throwing them open wide.

Beneath the doors were normal looking, narrow wooden stairs that lead downward into shadow.

"I guess it could be a cellar," Jared ventured.

"My money's on the Amityville basement," Alicia said, wry.

"Everyone wanna suit up before we go in?" Jensen asked.

Jensen slid into his Valkyrie form and he could nearly feel the energy in the air shift as the others in the group changed over. Crystal hadn't bothered, and Jared didn't have a secondary form—unless you counted his sigil branded form—but everyone else had switched. Jensen had never seen Lex in his Legacy form before, Lex's body and features made of smoky, constantly moving shadow like the shadow that comprised his hand. His eyes were shiny silver coins that glowed, and he was possessed of fangs not unlike the ones Jensen had seen on Satterwhite, although Lex's were shorter, only perhaps half an inch long.

"Perhaps I should strike a pose," Lex suggested, and Jensen could hear the smirk in his voice. 

Jensen rolled his eyes and looked away. 

"Don't be that way, darling," Lex said with mock-sweetness. "You look lovely, too."

"You're kind of an asshole, aren't you?" Crystal asked.

"You just figuring that out?" Lazaro asked her, like he was surprised.

"It's half my charm," Lex assured Crystal with a wink.

"That's true," Lazaro admitted, tilting his head slightly to one side.

"You done?" Jensen asked Lex. 

"Not remotely," Lex retorted. "But we can go in now."

Jensen set a foot down on the first wooden stair, testing it with his weight. It creaked, but it held, and it didn't turn into cotton candy or molasses or immediately try to eat him, which he counted in the plus column. Everyone was quiet as they descended, the only sounds their breathing and the pounding of Jensen's heart in his own ears.

When they reached the bottom, Jensen could barely see, it was so dark.

"Lumen," Jared murmured, and a soft light flared to life.

 A small ball that glowed yellow-white hovered in the air above the palm of Jared's upturned hand.

"Sequitur," Jared whispered to it, and tossed the ball in Jensen's direction.

 It arced downward toward Jensen and then bounced upward, landing above Jensen's shoulder and hovering there, drifting slightly back and forth as it waited.

 Jensen looked at Jared for a moment, surprised. No ingredients, no big production; just two words, and he'd conjured and given Jensen a light. "That's…"

 "A really simple spell," Jared finished for him. "Like learning to play a power chord."

Jensen nodded, then turned back to the room. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the light, and then he could see where they were.

On the surface, the room seemed to be a basement carved into the earth in the style of a root cellar. Jensen wasn't an architect, but he was fairly certain basements underneath houses didn't have earthen walls like this one—floors, perhaps, but not the walls. The walls under this house were made of packed dirt, as if the earth had simply been scooped out and the house dropped on top of the hole. It was bare, empty, and seemingly innocuous. But there was a feeling in there, a barely palpable electricity in the air that slid over his skin like razor wire. Everything was hushed, poised on the edge of expectation, the silence itself seeming to hold weight.

"Do you feel that?" Lex asked, his voice low as he stepped up beside Jensen.

Jensen tilted his head and listened the overwhelming sounds of nothing, eyes roving the ceiling, the walls, the floor. There was no sound of any kind, no hum of electronics or the movement of people, not even the scuttling sounds of rats or bugs. The lack of sound was oppressive on its own, but coupled with the strange energy on the air, it was almost unbearable. An involuntary shiver ran up the length of his spine. He nodded, voice hushed as he replied, "I feel… something." 

"Whatever it is, it's powerful," Jared commented, looking to Jensen. 

"No getting anything past you, is there?" Lex quipped.

"I meant if even I can sense it, it has to be," Jared shot back.

"Good thing we brought you along," Lex commented, tone breezy with sarcasm.

"Shh," Jensen hissed, holding up a hand. Cocking his head to the side he listened, ignoring the faint sounds of shifting clothing behind him. Slowly, he reached out with his upraised hand, fingers white and insignificant against the dark backdrop of earth that surrounded them. He hesitated, then placed his fingertips gently against the wall. An instant later he snatched his hand away and stepped back, wiping his hand on his jeans, disconcerted. 

"Jensen?" Alicia spoke up softly from behind him, and he could almost hear her frown. "What is it?"

"The walls…" He craned his neck to look at her, hand still held away from his body, not quite knowing what to do with it. "They're breathing."

Lazaro moved up closer to Jensen, reaching out to touch the wall, himself. He pulled his hand back and looked up the wall to the ceiling, across and down the other side. "I did some shrooms like this once," he said.

"This whole place is a bad acid trip," Jensen said in solidarity. He could still feel something oily clinging to his skin where he'd touched the wall, and he rubbed his hand against his pants again, then turned left, walking until he found a set of wooden stairs that led upward. The door at the top was just slightly askew, just enough to make Jensen question whether it really was crooked or not, and then he reached for the handle, turning the knob and letting the door fall open on its own. It creaked on its hinges as it fell open and away from them, the sound incredibly loud in the silence.

When nothing else happened, they filed through the door into the main area of the house. There was only one way to go in the hallway it opened to, and Jensen went right, light bobbing along over his shoulder. The room it opened to was huge—much larger than it should have been based on the outer dimensions of the house—made of marble floors and pillars along the sides, with vaulted ceilings and crystal chandeliers giving off dim, gas-fueled light.

It was a ballroom, unless Jensen missed his guess, although it wasn't well lit. The edges of the room were obscured by flickering shadows.

"She'll have guardians. Minions," Lex commented.

"You mean like those." Jensen nodded at the array of bodies that detached from the shadows, fanning out in front of them. They were dressed like harlequins, in black and white and red diamond patterns and strange hats with downward drooping halves, tiny bells attached to the ends. Some descended from the ceiling on long, gauzy lengths of fabric that unraveled as they fell. They moved silently as they leapt like dancers across the floor toward Jensen, long blades carried in their hands. 

Jensen's vision seemed to double, then triple, and he shook his head to clear it, only to find his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. There were three Alicia's, three Lazaro's, two more of himself, and so on.

"They have to know which one of us to hit," Lazaro said, and Jensen realized the man was using his power of illusion to replicate them all.

"No guns," Jensen said. "Only shoot if you have to. Save your ammo for the Twice-Born."

Alicia and her set of duplicates ran forward into the surge of harlequins, one image grabbing a dancer and flipping them across her leg before she spun and hit another in the face with the back of her fist. Jensen reached inside his chest and pulled, drawing forth his sword. His mirror images did the same even as the shadows in the room began to slither from place, curling around the feet of the harlequins and causing them to lose their footing. A whole wave went down in a sea of shadow, and Jensen stepped forward, swinging his sword out and around from his side, slicing through the chest and stomach of the two harlequins closest to him. One slipped past him, angling for Jared and he turned just in time to see Jared deliver a high, roundhouse kick to its head, sending it spinning back and away from him.

The harlequins were silent, even in death, and as Jensen shoved his sword through one, skewering it, he could see its garishly painted mouth was stitched closed. With a grimace, he yanked his sword free and grunted, kicking the body away from him before he swung again, aiming for the head on the next one. 

For each one they killed, three more seemed to spring from the shadows, and Jensen began to cut a path for himself through their bodies using his sword and the flames on his skin.

"We need to get to the next room," he yelled.

To his right, Lazaro's huge, powerful fist connected with a harlequins face with an audible crack before it went flying backward. "I'll help you clear a path," he yelled back.

Lazaro's Legacy form towered over the crowd and he literally plowed his way through them as Jensen followed behind, stabbing and slicing at the harlequins who tried to flank them. Their illusory doubles began to wink out as they progressed. Behind him, Jensen could hear the smack of Alicia's fists against the silent assailants, and he saw one go down in a swirling cone of shadow to his right. Jensen sliced through the crowd as the wave of creatures surged into them, and he tightened his heart down around the thought of Jared. Jared knew karate, he had his spells now to help protect him, and Alicia would lay down her life for him. 

They fought their way to the other end of the room, everyone turning their backs to the huge double doors. They stood against the wave of silent death, and Jensen could see Lazaro was bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts. Alicia had blood dripping down the side of her face, and Jared was favoring his right leg. Lex dissolved into shadow, a harlequin's blade passing through him harmlessly before he solidified again, and as Jensen watched, Lex reached out and grabbed Crystal, pulling her out of phase into shadow for an instant as another blade passed through her.

Jensen knew if they kept trying to fight, they'd be worn down by a thousand tiny cuts. Sword in one hand, he turned, pulling on the handle of one of the large double doors.

He blinked, and he was somewhere else.

He was alone, ball of light vanished, and it was dark and silent as he stood in what seemed like a small entry room with stairs leading upward. He turned, looking for the door behind him, and found only a solid wall. Fists pounding against it, he called out for the others and then stopped, listening. He couldn't hear his friends, but he could hear _something_.

Chills spilled down his spine, entire body erupting in goose flesh. His nostrils were suddenly clogged with the overpowering scent of rancid, rotten flesh. Whatever it was, it was right behind him and it was dead.

"We're so glad you're here." Jensen could feel fetid breath hit him, slithering into his brain.

He spun, sword out, and sliced through empty air, chest heaving with erratic breath. He leaned back against the wall, gritted his teeth, and realized he wasn't the only one breathing. Against his back, the wall moved slowly in and out. He yanked away from it in a hurry, strangeness of it clinging to him like cobwebbed warmth.

_Jensen. Give in._

Goosebumps raced over his flesh as he realized he was hearing the voice of the house itself.

"Get out of my head," he whispered, guttural, and shoved at the house with his mind.

Whether his effort had worked or the house was simply biding its time, he wasn't sure, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. The house, or whatever was in it—hell, maybe the entire plane—seemed determined to get him alone. He couldn't let it get inside him or he'd be done for, he knew that instinctively.

The stairs to the next level were warped, tilted at a right angle that seemed to lead upward forever. With a grimace of disgust, Jensen pressed his shoulder against the wall and lifted his foot. It seemed to take an eternity to traverse to the next one, and then the next, taking each with one foot. He counted ten before he reached the second floor, arms spread out wide to catch his balance as the world righted itself and flattened out. 

Wallpaper that had been white once was stained brown with time and water, strips of it peeling away from the plaster completely in places. Dark red velvet still clung to it in a repetitive rose pattern, dry and crumbly with age. On his left side, the landing spread out for what seemed like miles before it disappeared in shadow. On his right, the walls breathed and sweated out something he didn't want to know the essence of, and he felt very small; a tiny bug in a huge spider's web.

In the darkness of the distance, a shadow moved and he tensed, standing up straighter. Reality seemed to shrink then, walls zooming in close and tight, and something emerged from the shadows several feet in front of him. 

Her lips were blood red with an orange tint that matched her long hair, skin pale as alabaster, and her eyes glinted like emeralds in the strange light. She was dressed in black vinyl that covered her like an oil slick, her lashes seeming to drip just as dark and shiny. The green-tinted light found her slowly among the shadows, almost seeming to want to slip from her skin.

"Remember me, sweetness?" Satterwhite asked in a singsong voice. She lifted her arms to indicate the walls that throbbed and pulsed around them. "Welcome to your grave."

Jensen took a step closer to her and set his jaw, grim.

"What? No biting retort?" Satterwhite inquired.

Jensen lifted his foot and spun in a high roundhouse kick, just like Xae had taught him, and caught Satterwhite across the jaw with his boot heel. Satterwhite fell back, surprised and dazed, and Jensen eyed the woman with cold fire as he drew up his sword. 

"There's my retort." He lunged at the woman.

Satterwhite ducked under Jensen's arm, pivoting and turning as he came up on the other side, catching Jensen's wrist between her hands and twisting savagely. Jensen hissed and fell down on one knee, sword slipping from his grasp as he followed the wrenching arc of her arm, then punched upward with his free hand, catching underneath Satterwhite's jaw.

The woman fell back, grabbing Jensen's free hand around the wrist before it could strike her again. Both hands caught in awkward positions, Jensen thrust his head forward and slammed into the other woman's skull with a resounding crack, flowers of incredible neon color flaring behind his eyes. In a split second he reversed his momentum, pulled on Satterwhite's arms and hit the ground in a backward roll, tossing the woman over his head and slamming her to the ground. To his amazement, it worked, but he hadn't had time to learn much from Alicia and Xae, and he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. 

Jensen yanked his wrists free, leaped to his feet, and turned, eyes searching frantically for his sword. Now was the time, all his instincts were screaming at him.

No joy.

Satterwhite was on her feet in seconds, mouth split in a hungry grin as she wiped a thin line of blood from her chin. "Not bad."

"I remember your moves," Jensen said, expression cool and impassive.

"Really? Tell me then…" She came at Jensen dead on, and he spun instinctively to the left, bringing his left fist around in a backhand he hoped would catch the woman in the face. He struck nothing.

A strong arm caught him around the waist, barreling him into the wall face first and crushing the air from his lungs in a rushing gust. An instant later, something sharp ripped into his body, and he screamed. Blood poured from the middle of his back, and his flesh throbbed like white-hot fire.

"Did you see that one coming?"

His own sword. His own. Fucking. Sword. Punched through his back, right through his guts and out his belly to scratch at the walls. Until then, he wouldn't have thought it could hurt him, but a sword was still a sword, even if it was made from his own body. 

The world wavered, grayed out, then came back into focus. The pain was still like burning iron in his gut, but at least he wasn't going to black out. That would have been worse.

He slid down the wall, gasping for breath and hit the ground on his knees. He reached back, grasped the hilt of the sword and threw back his head, grit his teeth and braced himself. The fingernails of his free hand dug crescent shaped holes in his palm as the blade pulled free with a thick sound, covering his hand with sticky blood, and he screamed against the barrier of his teeth. The world wavered again, and then he thought he might really pass out, body still screaming with pain that pulsed in brilliant waves. Panting, he fell to a sitting position, turning to face his attacker and planting his back against the wall. He stared up at Satterwhite with wide eyes and flaring nostrils, one hand cupped protectively over the small, ragged hole in his belly.

Despite the haze of his pain, everything was startlingly sharp and clear. The house itself seemed to hum all around him, a biorhythm of life, and he could almost feel the living things that squirmed within it, living, eating, reproducing with mindless abandon. There was a harmony in it that was distracting, lulling him, and even the trickling of his blood to the ground seemed somehow peaceful, his mind filled with images of waterfalls. His eyelids fluttered, and the world warped and twisted around the edges of his vision.

 _Give in_ , the house whispered.

He bit down on the side of his tongue hard, sudden pain filling his mouth with the thin taste of copper and shocking him awake.

 _Fuck you_ , he answered with his mind.

He pushed from the ground, sliding up the wall and leaving a bloody trail in his wake. Weak, still short of breath, he set his eyes on Satterwhite and grinned. 

"So brave," Satterwhite mocked with a smirk. "So stupid. You just don't know when to lay down and die, do you?"

"Think you're the one to tell me when?" Jensen asked as he glanced about the floor, looking for his sword.

"You don't know how to fight me, do you?" Satterwhite inquired. "You couldn't kill me with that sword even if you hit me with it." Satterwhite gave a ghastly, inhuman grin. "You don't know what I am. Watch and learn, baby doll."

Her head twisted violently to the side, voracious grin still in place, and there came a thick, wrenching sound of flesh, the tearing and snapping of tendons. As Jensen watched, awestruck and horrified, Satterwhite's head began to separate from her neck, tendons glistening sickly in the faint light. Mummified organs of dull green and black pulled free, still attached to her head like some kind of malignant cancer.

There was an unspeakable sound of flesh ripping, of organs tearing free of their moorings, and Satterwhite's body fell to the floor with an empty thump. Her head levitated in the hallway, organs streaming from it like some kind of grotesque holiday balloon, like something out of a bad horror movie, and Jensen was dumbstruck by the unnaturalness of it, his mind retreating to some dim place far from her horrific visage. Satterwhite's black, bloody heart dangled like a lump of coal, and her desiccated lungs hung like shriveled beetles among an array of intestines that trailed like dead snakes.

"Give us a kiss," Satterwhite said, her face still twisted in a hideous rictus grin. Her head flew at Jensen, and he tried to dodge away, thrashing against the feel of sharp, seeking teeth. There was a brief sting like a pair of needles in his throat, pain flaring to life.

The world ran away in shades of red and gray, the faint pulse of his heartbeat low and soothing in his own ears. Blood passed from his throat in a languid flow and slowly took awareness with it until he felt lightheaded, almost see-through. He felt thin and fragmented, like dust motes on the wind, tiny, scattered bit of consciousness tossed about and nearly lost.

"Jensen!" 

Jared's voice calling to him. So distant, so far away.

 _You really want to die?_ A voice spoke up in the back of his mind, and it sounded like steel, like strength and comfort and home. It sparked desire, longing in the center of his soul, but it was faint, faraway, and he'd been running from himself so long he barely knew how to stand, how to move toward it. Secret to unraveling the universe tucked behind the sandwall in his mind, and maybe it was better this way, easier if he just gave up and died. His friends would be safe, the world would be safe, and the Twice-Born would preen and gloat, never knowing the secret had died with him.

He felt himself beginning to let go, one imagined finger at a time lifting from the slender mental ledge he clung to.

_"Is this why you killed me?" Nikki Fortune asked, looking at him with disgust. "So you could give up?"_

The Echo, the Valkyrie, the Retro Partum. He'd never asked for any of it. He'd never wanted any of it.

_His mother's hand brushed at his brow followed by the cool press of her lips to his forehead. "Stand up sunflower proud," she whispered. "My beautiful sunflower boy."_

Saving his friends, destroying the Twice-Born. So much rested on his shoulders. It was too much to ask. He was just one man.

_"Get up, Jensen," Jared breathed. "You have to get up."_

_-If you don't get up they're all going to die-_

A primal cry of anguish rose up in him, building from his stomach and exploding through his diaphragm.

Hands trembling, covered in blood, he grabbed Satterwhite by her long, red hair, and held her hideous face tight against his throat. He could almost feel those lips broaden with a smile against his skin, and he smiled in return. His other hand reached out and up, gripping her head just beneath the severed flesh of her neck. Tangling his fingers in the cords, he pulled, and something gave with a sickening snap. 

Satterwhite reared back and screamed, teeth tearing from Jensen's neck in a riot of pain.

"I know what you are," he snarled, yanking the disembodied head in front of his face. "Pennangalan: eastern vampire." Jensen paused, coughed, and couldn't tell if the blood he tasted was from his tongue or from the well of his body. It didn't matter anyway. "But that doesn't make you immortal," Jensen said with a grin.

Satterwhite's emerald eyes widened with true fear. Her face painted red with the crimson of Jensen's blood, she lunged at Jensen with wide open fangs.

Jensen jerked her head backward with a violent tug. Satterwhite screamed again in pain, and it was like music to Jensen's ears, hitting his blood in a rush of adrenaline. "Know what else I know about you?" His mouth curled in an emotionless smile, and he felt somehow both empty and satisfied. "I know how to kill you."

Satterwhite panicked, head thrusting upward like a bullet, and Jensen wrenched against the hair tangled in his hand. He was distantly aware of others approaching, but his attention was riveted on her.

"You don't wanna miss this ending," he told her.

He squeezed the thin cord that tethered Satterwhite's organs with one hand, feeling tissue that was too fragile and strangely cold crush beneath his grip, and tightened his other hand in the woman's hair. He pulled down against the grotesque display with all his might, and ripped the woman's head simultaneously upward.

Like a baby from the placenta, they tore apart, slender cord tugging free her esophagus, what remained of her spinal cord, and the shriveled, black mass of her brain. Jensen looked into her dying eyes, wanting to watch the light fade from their green depths. Her blood-stained lips quivered, tried to move, tried to form words that painted bloody ideograms of what she wanted to do to Jensen.

"Cat got your tongue? Oh." He paused, then held the mess of organs up before the head's frantic eyes. "No, wait. _I_ do."

Jensen dropped the shriveled remains of her insides to the floor. With purpose, he planted his foot in the center of the brain that lay curled like a fat, black spider, and twisted his booted heel. It split apart like an overcooked turkey, thin outer skin releasing the fragile pulpy matter within. The light went out in Satterwhite's eyes, flat green coins emptying of life or retort, and then the head turned to dust in Jensen's hand.

"Fuck you," Jensen whispered. Then his foot slid out from under him and he fell backward against the wall, boneless and drained as he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

   


	13. Chapter 13

Time passed in a slow blur, walls seeming to breathe in time with him, and he didn't want to think too much about the dampness of his back, uncertain whether he wished the wetness was blood or whatever sickness the house was excreting. One almost certainly meant he was dying, the other would drive him over the edge of sanity if he thought about it too long. It seemed like eons passed while he laid there against the wall, pain throbbing in his gut.

"Jensen?" 

Jared's voice called to him beyond the pain-fogged cloud of his mind. How long had he been sitting there? It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, no matter how long it had felt. He blinked and opened his eyes, then moved his mouth and tried to speak. He licked his lips to sweep away the coppery taste of blood and tried again.

"Jared," he said, voice rough and gravelly, but steady. "I'm here."

He could hear Jared's sigh of relief, and then there were hands, blessedly cool hands touching him. Fingers touched the wounds on his throat gently, and he hissed, yanking away.

"Hold still, I need to bandage it," Alicia said, stern. She opened her bag, digging through it for supplies, and Jared knelt down on his other side, taking his hand.

"Oh my God." Crystal's voice trailed off as it moved closer, echoing off the walls, sounding pale and vaguely sick. "That's the grossest thing I've ever seen."

"I don't look that bad, do I?" Jensen tried to chuckle, coughed instead, and then instantly regretted it.

Crystal stepped delicately over and around Satterwhite's remains and then knelt down near his feet. "Are you okay?"

"Alicia is he all right?" Jared asked.

"He will be if you let me work," Alicia said, voice tense.

"I'm fine," Jensen responded. "You guys okay?"

"Everyone's fine," Alicia answered testily, as if annoyed Jensen was concerning himself. "Now be quiet and hold still."

He let his eyes droop shut again, taking advantage of the time to rest. It wouldn't be long before he had to get up again. He heard the faint sound of material being snipped and tried not to wince as Alicia tilted his head forward and wrapped gauzy cloth around his neck. After another few minutes, Alicia had bound the wound in his side, and he was starting to feel better. He'd probably lost a good amount of blood, but he was going to make it. He had to.

"Better?" Alicia asked, and he nodded, opening his eyes again.

"Are you able to keep going?" Jared asked. His hazel eyes looked strange in the odd light of the house.

"Not much choice, really," Jensen said with a slightly strangled laugh. The motion made the holes in his throat flash with pain and he winced.

"Jensen." Jared's eyes were filled with concern. "You don't have to go on if you can't."

"Yes, he does," Lex answered Jared, voice low, and for a wonder, lacking in mockery.

Jared turned and cut him a venomous look.

"Come now," Lex said, slipping back into his usual lofty tone. "We need Jensen to do this, and he knows it. As do you. Stop pretending we can protect him from it and let him get up."

Jared's jaw clenched with a stinging retort, but with a visible effort he reined it in and turned back to Jensen, eyes resentful but resigned.

"We've come a long way from 'Congratulations on your concussion', haven't we?" Jensen asked him with a fond smile.

"I just don't want you to…" Jared's voice was low, quiet and husky, and he seemed reluctant to finish his thought.

Jensen gave a wan smile and lifted his bloody hand to Jared's face, fingers shaky as they skimmed his cheek. "I know."

Jared leaned and kissed him then, a sweet, close-mouthed kiss that could have been chaste but wasn't, warmth and passion shining through him and into Jensen as he took Jensen's face carefully between his hands. Jared felt like safety and sanity, and Jensen wanted nothing more than to wrap himself up in Jared and stay there. At last, Jared drew back and Jensen bit down on a sigh, resolving himself to reality.

To the rest of them, he said, "Anyone wanna tell me why these things keep singling me out?"

"Because you're the real threat," Lex said as if it should have been obvious. He seemed about to say more, and then glanced sidelong at Lazaro.

Lazaro caught the glance and tilted his head, flames at the top of his tall form swaying with the movement.

"Look," Lazaro said, shifting the rifle that rested against his chest. "You guys don't need to tell me your business. I'm here for Xae. But after finding out Tenth's letting the Twice-Born try and find the Retro Partum, there's no chance in hell I'm going back to the Coalescence. I doubt Xae will either, after Tenth letting her stay here." Lazaro shrugged one massive shoulder of his Legacy form. "So I'm not gonna tell them anything. But you don't have to tell _me_ anything, either."

In truth, Jensen no longer cared if Lazaro knew—the man had saved his life at least twice at this point. Jensen looked at Lex and said, "You mean I'm the real threat because I'm the Echo."

Lex exhaled and rolled his shoulders once, and Jensen couldn't tell if that meant he disagreed with Jensen letting Lazaro in on things, or if that meant Lex was at peace with it. Jensen supposed it didn't really matter either way.

"Yes." Lex nodded. "The things here seem to be able to sense it."

"Not just here," Jared put in. "The Kelpie went straight for him, too. The Twice-Born sent Satterwhite after him. Maybe they don't know _exactly_ what they sense him, but they sense he's the biggest threat."

"What the hell is an Echo?" Lazaro asked, squinting at Jensen.

Jensen decided not to beat around the bush. Lazaro struck him as the sort of man who appreciated bluntness, anyway. "I can drain and permanently absorb other Legacies powers if I hold on too long."

"Oh." Lazaro's eyes widened slightly and then went thoughtful. Jensen could almost see him putting the pieces together. "Is that why you're a Valkyrie?"

Jensen nodded once.

"Man. That is crazy," Lazaro said with a shake of his head.

Jensen huffed out a noise of agreement and pushed up from the wall, trying to touch it the least amount possible. He swayed so drunkenly on his legs that Jared reached out to steady him, but though they shook a bit, they held. He noticed Alicia watching him just as closely as Jared was, and he flashed her a smile that was bolder than he felt. 

"You ready for another round, Alicia?"

One corner of Alicia's mouth curled upward in a smirk. "Let's do it."  
  


*    *    *

  
The others were scratched up, bruised and bore a few deep cuts, but overall they seemed well enough. Jensen wasn't sure his own injuries wouldn't stop him from doing what needed to be done, but he put one foot in front of the other and kept walking.

They walked deeper into the bowels of the house, through strange corridors that wrapped around on themselves like a maze, through empty rooms and a long, wide open hall where the wood began to gave way to stone. The ceiling stretched away what seemed like hundreds of feet as the stone became more solid, though wooden beams still crossed the archways, some of them broken and all bearing moss and lichen. Actual torches burned in brackets that appeared ancient, green flame lending the stone wan, brackish light. The shifting luminescence made the hall appear even more sinister than complete darkness would have, suggesting movement and shadow and the resting place of pale things that had no need for the light of day. Water dripped all around them, striking stone and echoing off the walls, and it was clear to Jensen that they were no longer inside the replica of a Victorian house, having stumbled into an area built more like an abandoned castle. The fact that no one seemed to feel the need to comment on it spoke a lot about where they were.

They came to a large archway on their right, its height spanning something like thirty feet, but it was closed off by a wrought iron gate of extremely strong and beautiful design that rose at least ten of those feet. There were spikes at the arched top of the gate, and tinier spikes that dotted the bars like rose thorns, cross sections fitted into the stone walls so that it couldn't be opened even if someone tried.

Jensen paused by it, looking closely at the design, and then he pierced his chest with his fingers, reaching for the hilt of his sword. It had been long enough that it had regrown, and he tugged it free, fingers wrapping around the grip. He aligned it with edge of the gate and then hefted it high, slicing downward.

It struck metal with an explosion of sparks, but it held true, cutting downward through the bars near where they disappeared into the wall. It took him a few more times, hacking through the horizontal bars, and at last the gate fell free, clattering inward and falling against the wet stone floor.

"Well. It'll be a long time before a gate challenges you again," Lex remarked with mild sarcasm.

 "This whole plane's out to get us, practically inviting us into one horror after the next. And then this is closed off?" Jensen asked. "There's got to be something in there it doesn't want us to see."

"Or something even worse than we've encountered already," Lex contradicted.

"Yeah, well," Jensen said, stepping between the sections of the gate on the ground, "if we had any good choices left, we wouldn't be here."

The hall was wide but choked with the debris of crumbling white stone, moss and ivy growing from the piles of small, pocked boulders. They threaded their way through, eventually coming to a large, circular chamber with a domed ceiling that loomed hundreds of feet above them. In the center, a stone platform rose, stone flat circles laid upon flat circles to form stairs all the way around and up to the top. And at the top…

 "What is that?" Alicia whispered, beating Jensen to the question.

Atop the wide platform was a massive black creature made of writhing tentacles and eyes, its form exuding dark smoke at the edges. As Jensen watched, a tentacle unfurled from the main body and slithered down the steps, its tip like a snake as it paused, testing the air.

"It's a fear demon," Lex said. "It attaches itself to you and shows you all your greatest fears until you go insane or die."

"Why?" Alicia asked, giving a Lex an uncertain look.

"Because it feeds on fear." Lex's reply was distracted, and then more thoughtful as he said, "Does anyone else see a person in there?"

Jensen squinted, and he could see a part of a person wrapped within the main tentacles of the body. He caught a glimpse of color, pink and red over olive skin tone, and knew instantly who it was. "It's Xae."

Jensen felt cautious relief rush through him at the realization. If the demon was still attached to her, that meant it was still feeding on her, which meant she was still alive and likely still sane.

"The Twice-Born must be using the demon to try and weaken her," Lex said, as if that made sense.

"How do we kill it?" Alicia asked.

Lex shrugged with one shoulder. "It has a weak spot at the center, where all the tentacles connect. But it's a very small area."

"Great," Jensen said, wry. "Instead of trying to blow up the Death Star, how about we hack it to death?"

"That could prove difficult. Its outer skin is extremely tough." 

"Then let's hit with everything we've got until it stops moving," Jensen concluded.

Tiny comets seeming to streak through her dark hair, Alicia pulled her bow from her back and spread her feet apart to steady her stance. Jensen hefted his sword as Lex dissolved into shadow and Lazaro stepped forward, hands closed into fists. 

Jensen rushed up the steps, dodging left out of the way of a tentacle and then ducked under another, point of his sword driving upward into its soft underside. He yanked it free, black ichor spraying from the wound, and dodged left again as he stayed low, focusing on getting as close to the things body as he could. Jensen had seen enough of the horrors this place had to offer, and he had no desire to see any more, avoiding tentacles and striking at the undersides when he could.

He'd almost reached the thing's body when a fat tentacle caught him from behind, curling around his waist and squeezing. The wound in his side throbbed and screamed in pain and he ignored it. He lunged desperately, point of his sword thrusting outward, straining to reach the dark, star-shaped area where all the tentacles met. Tentacle tightening with nearly crushing pressure, it yanked him backward, sword point falling short of its mark. As Jensen watched, the tip of the tendril wrapped around him wove back and forth in front of his eyes, as if trying to decide where to attach. He gave one last swing of his sword, fiery metal not sinking deep enough into its flesh to sever the tip, and then it slithered over his face like a lover, covering his eyes.

A sudden, inhuman screech split the air and the tentacle around Jensen tightened so hard it forced the air from his lungs, and then it wilted, falling in a loose coil to the ground. His eyes uncovered, he took a deep breath and stepped back as the whole monster went limp, eyes crumpling inward, body oozing out across the ground like a puddle.

A silver arrow protruded from the star-shaped center of its body, and Jensen turned, staring at Alicia in surprise.

Alicia was still holding her bow in the release position, one eye meeting Jensen's around the curved wood as she gave a shrug.

The fear demon was rapidly curdling into piles of goo, and Jensen could see the top of the platform clearly now.

Xae stood at the center, her slender wrists encircled by large iron cuffs that were chained to the ceiling. Her face was tucked against the inside of her right arm, eyes closed, and what Jensen could see of her features wasn't pleasant. Her eye was blackened and puffy, her lips pale and cracked, blood filling the gaps. A nasty row of blue-green bruises bloomed along the line of her cheek, and her clothing was ripped in places, revealing more cuts and bruises. Lazaro and Alicia rushed up the last few stairs with Jensen. 

Alicia shouldered Lazaro and Jensen out of the way, gently cupping Xae's face and turning it toward them. Xae's eyes fluttered after a moment, her unbruised eye opening fully. It took several seconds for the glaze to leave her eyes, for her to recognize them, and then her pale lips curved in the tiniest of smiles.

"It's about time," she croaked, and then coughed.

Alicia took a few moments to check Xae completely while Lazaro and Jensen surveyed the cuffs around her wrists and ankles.

"She seems fine to move," Alicia said, and then gave the chains a scrutinizing look. "Don't know how we're gonna move her, though."

"I'm not strong enough to break the cuffs or the chains," Lazaro said as he stood up behind Xae, his Legacy form looming over her tiny frame.

Jensen was standing off to one side in front of Xae, wondering if his flames could burn through the metal, and if they could, if he could burn through it without harming Xae. The thickness of the chains left his sword out as an option, and if Lazaro couldn't break them with his strength, Jensen wasn't sure what options they had left. "Suggestions?" he asked the group.

Lex strode up next to Jensen and made a slight shooing gesture with his gloved hand.

Jensen backed up a step, frowning.

"Be ready to catch her," Lex said, looking at Lazaro.

Lazaro gave Lex a quizzical look and then bent at the knees, wrapping his massive forearms around Xae's chest, beneath her arms.

Lex wrapped his hand around the cuff on Xae's left wrist, and as Jensen watched, the shadows from Lex's Legacy form swept out from his fingers and covered the metal, dissolving it in shadow as well.

Xae's hand fell free and her weight slumped to the left, left knee giving out. Lazaro held her up easily, and Lex did the same to each cuff holding her in place until she was free. Lex retreated then, standing near Crystal behind the rest of them, and Lazaro lowered Xae gently to the ground. He walked around her then, joining the rest of them as they circled in front of her. Alicia knelt down to begin bandaging Xae, and Jensen saw Xae meet Alicia's eyes, giving her a small smile.

"You couldn't have done that to the gate?" Jensen asked, eyeing Lex.

The smirk Lex gave him was nearly playful. "I have to let you do _something_ around here."

When Alicia was done, she handed Xae a water bottle from her pack, waiting while Xae downed half of it. After that, they all helped her get on her feet.

"I'll help her walk," Crystal said.

Jensen thought of protesting—Crystal was slightly shorter than Xae and definitely lacked the muscle mass Xae carried, toned and lean though it was—but then he saw the determined set of Crystal's face and realized it was important to her. It was something she could do, and Jensen realized it must be frustrating for her to follow them around, face down horror and death and not be able to contribute or defend herself.

Once they were ready to get underway again, Jensen looked around at the group, debating internally. It would probably have been best to send Alicia and Crystal to take Xae back to the club. Crystal couldn't fight, Xae was probably too weak to do much, and Alicia could defend them as well as stitch them up if they needed it. He would have sent Jared, too, if he thought for a second Jared would have left him. He imagined trying to convince them to go and realized he had just as small of a chance at getting them to agree, so he sighed and said nothing, looking around to get his bearings.

"This place never ends," he grumbled. "How are we ever gonna find her?"

As if in response to his question, the sound of music carried to them faintly, echoing off the stone walls. Jensen went completely still as he strained to hear it, and recognized the sweet and somber chords of The Moonlight Sonata. Somewhere within the bounds of the house, someone was playing a piano with finesse and passion.

"Do you guys hear that?" he asked the rest of the group, not fully trusting his own senses.

"The Moonlight Sonata," Jared said, and the rest of them nodded. 

"Under normal circumstances I'd call that strange," Jensen said. "But given our current circumstances it seems refreshingly almost normal."

"Shall we follow the Pied Piper?" Lex asked.

Jensen shrugged. "Might as well."

The music proved more difficult to track than Jensen would have guessed, notes echoing oddly off the stone archways and halls, and they took several wrong turns before they found their way back into the Victorian house. The wood flexed and rippled around them, wallpaper rising and falling with breath, and while it seemed more manageable than the undercastle they'd been roaming, Jensen decided he hadn't missed it at all.

The music led them up a flight of stairs that seemed to rise for miles, and then down a long hall lined with doors, most of them tightly, and thankfully closed. The wallpaper was filled with shifting faces that followed and watched them, features skeletal. One grew too curious—or perhaps hungry—face beginning to push from inside the flat surface, and Jared put a blade right between its sunken eyes. It sank back into the wallpaper, flattening into the pattern, but it didn't stop bleeding, crimson running down the wall in rivulets as they passed.

Jared was at Jensen's side, Lazaro just a bit to his left and behind, and he glanced back to see how the others were doing. Xae was still leaning on Crystal, but she seemed to be keeping up well enough. Alicia walked on Crystal's other side, their hands laced together, whether for comfort, in friendship or something more, Jensen wasn't sure, but it made him smile just a little. Lex trailed behind them all, keeping watch at their back, his shadowy form nearly blending in with the shadows that encroached on the hall.

"I think we're getting closer," Jared said in a near-whisper.

Jensen cocked his head, listening, and then nodded. "It sounds like it's just up ahead."

Presently, they came to an open door that hung inward on its hinges, and music poured out from inside, the sound rich and full. It was a large room, although not gigantic, and it was filled with musical instruments. A dusty, moldering harp sat on one corner, a cracked cello was propped on a stand, its neck sitting crooked, and there were half a dozen more instruments draped in dusty, mold caked, white sheets. In the center of the room stood the piano, and surrounding it was a shimmering orb, its surface a translucent shade of putrid green that screamed 'poisonous'. Within the bubble, seated on the piano bench, was a female figure with long, flowing red hair, her pale fingers gliding over ivory keys. 

"Twice-Born," Jensen hissed as the group stopped at the edge of the bubble.

The music stopped abruptly as her fingers ceased moving. "You're here," the Twice-Born said without turning to look.

Jensen squinted, disarmed by the way she simply sat there, by the way she had been playing the piano at all.

"I suppose we should speak," she said.

Jensen's eyes narrowed further. She seemed… sane. Lucid, even, for a Rift tainted creature. "I'd really rather just get to the killing."

She seemed to ignore him as she continued speaking. "Music is a language. Random sound formed into notes, shaped into chords, a cacophony given order and context. For instance…" she pressed down two fingers on each hand against the piano keys, creating a clashing, dissonant sound. "This sound, by itself, evokes a sense of wrongness. A sound so intrinsically opposed to your sense of harmony that it feels like danger. That cringe you feel…" She hit the keys again, and Jensen grit his teeth together, nerves standing on edge. "That's your primitive brain telling you to run. Telling you that this is a thing to be avoided at all costs, and if it absolutely cannot be avoided, then it must be destroyed."

"But…" she went on, shifting her hands on the keys. "If I were to play the same keys within a framework…" she played a melodic chord and another, "find a place where they fit…" Jensen heard the note that had seemed discordant, the way it blended with the chords she was playing with her other hand, "you would notice them, discordant, but somehow not out of place." She played on. "You wouldn't be incited to run. You wouldn't want to destroy it. You would stand still," she said as she struck the keys, "and listen."

"It's instinct, the need to create music. The first humans drummed their fingers against stone and later against animal skins stretched across bone. More eloquent than the grunts and gestures that were beginning to evolve; when the drums spoke, everyone understood. And later, the guts of animals strung across larger bones."

Jensen shifted impatiently outside the barrier. "I didn't come here for a lesson about music."

Her fingers ceased against the smoothness of ivory. "You don't believe I'm only talking about music." She turned, and her eyes were not the orange fire of madness, but beautiful blue as they settled on Jensen.

Jensen didn't know what to make of her appearance—if she was trying to throw him off, it was working. Still, he understood her well enough. "If you're trying to sell me on why you should set the old gods free, then don't bother."

"I knew you were smart." The human version of the Twice-Born smiled. "And yet, not smart enough." She shifted her shoulders as she regarded him. “We’re not so different, you and I.” 

Jensen rolled his eyes and muttered, “Please.”

“I’m a creature that shouldn’t exist, transformed by a Rift. You are also a creature that shouldn’t exist. We both have the power to destroy within us.”

“Except I’m destroying the things that are trying to destroy the world,” Jensen contradicted.

“Like you destroyed the Valkyrie?” the Twice-Born inquired.

Jensen felt anger rise up in quick and hard. “I’m going to carry the guilt for that for the rest of my life. How about you? How guilty are you feeling about the Legacies you’ve killed?”

“They are meaningless. A trifle,” she said with a flourish of one hand. “Join with me Jensen, and we can rule alongside the old gods together.”

"That’s very Darth Vader of you,” Jensen replied.

“We’re just another step in the evolution process, Jensen. A step above the other Legacies. Imagine the power we could wield, together.”

“Can't you just… be crazy?" Jensen asked, exasperated.

"I don't think that's her," Lazaro said in a low voice.

"Great. So we have to fight something else before we fight her?" Jensen was tired, bone tired.

Quick as a blink, Lazaro drew a gun from his side holster and fired, sound of the shot shockingly loud.

The bullet passed through the barrier, through the Twice-Born harmlessly, and then her form rippled, wavering, an image on the air scattering into fragments. 

"It's an illusion," Lazaro said, like he'd suspected it all along.

Jensen was confused. "But why—?"

"Behind us!" Lazaro was already turning, rifle ready to fire and Jensen spun a split second later.

The real Twice-Born was nearly on top of them.

Bullets flew with deafening shots and the clink of shells hitting the floor, lodging in her inhumanly pale skin, tearing away chunks of flesh at the edges, and still she came on, flying toward Jensen with a single-mindedness that made him raise his gun and aim for her head. She grabbed Jensen by the face, gazing down into him with mad, orange-red eyes, and he could see the bullets already beginning to push from her skin, squeezing out and striking the floor amongst the shells.

The sounds of gunfire trailed off and Jensen realized she was so close to him that they didn't dare fire.

Her hand twitched against Jensen's face and Jensen saw that it was thin and skeletal, flesh barely clinging to the bone with ropes of black vein. Light flashed from her palms, bright fire, reds and yellows combining into pure white as it enveloped him like a pair of giant arms and lifted him from the ground.

"You found me. Let's see what I can find in _you_ ," she hissed with venomous glee.

He gasped as the light consumed him and crushed against him. He felt like he was suffocating, starving for oxygen. Bright spots of color bloomed before his open eyes that had nothing to do with the light that filled the room. The others turned toward him, and he could see their faces clearly for an instant, etched with fright and concern. Then the light covered his face, shielding them from his view, and he felt the first sharp tingles, like a thousand tiny needles burrowing into his skin. He grunted and grit his teeth against the pain; the only protest his paralyzed body could make.

The overwhelming pain began to pass, the sharp tingling sensation lessening—and then he felt those needles come alive over every inch of his flesh as they began to worm beneath his skin, tasting every layer through muscle and tendon, eating right down into the bone. He was in agony as they scoured his veins, his organs, everything from the inside as if he had been filled with sulfuric acid.

Jensen opened his mouth and screamed. 

   

    *    *    *  
  


They were… somewhere else. It didn't feel like the Prime, but it wasn't the Meridian, either.

The ground was barren, sand stretching away as far his eyes could see. An inexplicable sun shone down with harsh light, the sun itself invisible to the naked eye. Above him there were things that floated—bricks and battlements and pieces of statues were carelessly flung in the air like children's toys. Against all sense, they hung suspended in place against a backdrop of open, empty sky. High up, floating in the distance, he could see the silhouette of an entire castle that appeared ripped from its moorings, strange light bleeding through the tower windows. Closer, the marble head and outstretched open hand of a gigantic statue hovered, its face carved in a serene expression at odds with everything around it.

In the distance on the ground, he thought he could see the white bones of an old structure amidst the sand, and nearby several marble pillars poked up haphazardly. He knew where this place was. He'd read about it. He was in the Drift; the place that had been part of the old gods' home, once. That meant he was in spirit form, and his Legacy power…

He'd never felt the Valkyrie so close, so intense, her voice a song in his veins. Fire, sharp and bright on his skin, and he could feel the prickle of it against every individual nerve. He flexed his hand and felt the song surge, golden energy pulsing from his fist.

Jensen heard something rush at him and barely had time to turn.

She was all Chimera now, that was all he saw in the split second before she hit him, her skin fur and scale and bereft of black veins, three sets of glowing eyes—and then he was flying, sword lost from his grip.

Jensen's head plowed painfully into the sand, blood trailing across it like a brush stroke as he slid. Grains buried themselves in the taut lines of his face, slipping into his mouth and crunching between clenched teeth. He spun over onto his back, kicked up and out with both feet, and sent the Chimera flying through the air away from him, following the force of the kick to his feet. The world flashed red, and the tissue of his jaw felt wrong, left side hanging unnaturally.

The injuries to his side and throat didn't seem to exist on this plane, but the damage from the Chimera was real enough. Hand still curled against his lips, he rose to his feet with sharp grin. "Nice sucker punch."

The Chimera flapped its massive wings, and Jensen stood in awe of the Twice-Born's truest form. Its body was hugely muscled, rising at least six feet at shoulder height, and its three heads were spread out equally as they descended from its chest on long, thickly muscled necks. Each one was demonic in feature, lying low at the end of its neck, chin inches from the sandy ground. It's forebody was like a lion's, front legs ending in paws with huge black claws, and its hindquarters were darkly scaled, gleaming with iridescence, back legs reptilian and sharply taloned. Its tail was also scaled and thick like a lizard's, thrashing against the air counterpoint to the angle of its heads. Its wings were dragon like, held close against its body as it surveyed Jensen with three sets of eyes.

"Why don't _I_ get a huge monstrous form?" Jensen muttered, petulant.

The Chimera flapped its wings and came at him again, all three demonic heads snapping vicious teeth at his face. Jensen reached out with both hands, grabbing the head closest to him and twisting it until he heard tendons snap. The goat head screamed and jerked itself from Jensen's grasp even as the lion's head sank its teeth into Jensen's forearm. He shouted in pain, fingers sinking deep into the bloodied, dirty mane and latching hold. He tugged hard, trying to pull its teeth free, and to his right, he could see the dragon head poised like a cobra, leering at him with malevolent green eyes as it opened its startlingly pale mouth.

Of the three, it was by far the most dangerous, and Jensen let go of the lion head, lashed out with his fist, punching into the dragon head's mouth and down its throat. Teeth scraped over his forearm but he ignored the pain as he flexed his hand inside the thing's mouth, wrapping his fingers around the pale, mottled tongue and yanking. 

The dragon head screamed and Jensen sensed it was going to bite down in the instant before it tried. He called on the Valkyrie's flame, his whole body blazing bright fire.

The lion head released him and roared while the dragon head thrashed and tried to break free of his grasp. Jensen sank his nails into the slimy flesh of its tongue and held on as he began to roast it from the inside out.

The Chimera pulled with the strength of its whole body, hind claws digging against the sand, and planted its forepaws against Jensen's chest. It shoved him, hard, and sent him tumbling backward into the sand, his grip finally sliding free. 

The Chimera backed up through the sand and shook its goat head, dragon head listing badly toward the ground. Only the lion's head in the middle seemed unharmed, glowing red eyes intent on Jensen as it growled. Foamy saliva flecked with blood dripped from its mouth as its tail thrashed, and as Jensen leaped to his feet, it charged him.

The brunt of the charge caught Jensen in the chest and sent him flying into the sand once again. Something cracked and shifted wrongly within his breast, and he fought for air as he dragged himself to his feet once again.

The Chimera slammed into him before he'd even regained his balance, and he grabbed hold of it, taking it with him. They went down in writhing tangle of limbs, each struggling for a better grip. They hit the edge of a dune and tumbled down it, the world suddenly turned upside down, sky and sand and sky and sand as they rolled, forced to let go of each other and slow the awkward descent of their bodies.

Jensen washed up at the bottom of the dune, wanting only to take a moment to catch his breath, to ease the burning ache in his arm and chest. And then the Chimera was atop him again, lion's mouth grinning as it closed its teeth around Jensen's throat. 

Cruel teeth bit into the tender flesh of his neck, piercing skin and muscle, and Jensen wondered how much damage his spirit could take before his body died. World flickering, consciousness wavering, Jensen brought his knees up in a blinding strike, catching the Chimera in the soft underside of its throat, and the creature grunted, neck arching unnaturally forward with the force of the blow. Its hold came loose, tearing from Jensen's throat and Jensen grabbed it by the mane, yanking downward and pulling his body out from under it. He was scrambling to his feet when the creature lurched forward, thrusting its lion head into Jensen's. Bone struck bone with a flat, terrible sound, and Jensen's mind seemed to split apart in a seam of bright red pain.

Dazed, he flopped over into the sand. The Chimera was a dim vision above him, distant and unimportant. The Valkyrie slipped from him, flame dissolving. It was fading, all fading, and nothing seemed to matter as his consciousness ran out like blood upon the ground. Everything was darkening, growing numb, and he barely felt it as as a massive paw slammed into his face with the force of a sledgehammer.

Stupid. So stupid. He'd couldn't defeat The Twice-Born alone. He should have known.

The giant paw pressed down against his bleeding throat, lion's eyes gleaming red satisfaction.

His mind diminished, whispering with goodbyes to everyone he'd failed. And then mercifully, consciousness began to slide away, his eyes falling shut…

No. He couldn't fail Jared and Alicia and everyone else. He couldn't die without giving everything he had. And he still had something left—the thing the Twice-Born seemed most afraid of. He didn't hesitate as he reached deep and embraced it, power purring at his touch.

In the blinding light of the desert, Jensen's eyes snapped open, strength drawn from that primal place he had touched only twice in all his life. It rose up within him with an awful vibration, muscles and nerves firing with new life at its touch. Slowly, with agonizing seconds, his hands crawled over the huge paw on his throat, fingers gouging his own flesh as he slid them beneath. His neck throbbed, and his chest ached for breath, but he clung to the pain like a lifeline, bending it to his will. One clawed pad pried loose, then another, and another, and precious air leapt into him with a thin whisper. Grasping one of the toes cruelly, he twisted it out and away, feeling bones crunch brittle beneath his grip.

The paw fell away, lion's teeth snapping at his face as the dragon's head howled pain with its mangled mouth. Jensen shoved a hand against the lion's chin grasping its snout with the other. He pulled with his newfound strength, forcing the creature's mouth open unnaturally wide. Blood began to trickle from the edge of its mouth and there was no fear Jensen now, no trace of giving up. Power swirled like a vortex within him, ravenous, and he pulled with that, too, beginning to drain it.

His head snapped back as he drew the creature's life force from it. The Chimera's body began to deflate, skin growing pale and lackluster, scales beginning to turn brittle. Red eyes flared and then began to dull, and still Jensen fed, his blood soaring in his veins with delirious glee.

_Jensen._

Jared's voice, but far, so far away. He felt the power in him ripple unevenly and hesitate, and then he dug his fingers deeper into the beast's maw. It had nearly stopped struggling now, its energy beginning to ebb.

_Jensen!_

_JENSEN!_

**_JENSEN!_ **

Jared's voice distracted him, fingers faltering, and the beast seemed to sense its chance, yanking from his grip with a twist of its shaggy neck.

The Chimera melted, body running like wax until it became a human figure with too-pale skin. She stood there for a moment, black veins threaded through her form pulsing grotesquely, and then she made a motion with one arm.

With a sickening pop, he was back in the Umbra, light fading from him as the Twice-Born fell back from him. Jensen didn't hesitate, lunging for the woman, and she fell back again, dodging out of Jensen's way, something like true fear in her mad eyes. She thrust out an arm and energy whirled to life, wind rising and rushing about them, and then the threads of reality began to come apart. 

The world unwound in tendrils that dripped and oozed, splitting a seam in the world, and through it, Jensen could see the inside of the Hall of Doors. All at once Jensen realized what she was doing.

She was trying to get away.

Jensen dove, fingers grasping hold of her dress and wrapping in the long strands of her hair, and she dragged him through the portal.

They hit the ground together, hard, and rolled, Jensen coming up on top of her.

"Not gonna be that easy," he told her, and smiled with gritted teeth.

“You think I’m a monster,” she hissed, face curling in a mask of hatred. “You’re a monster, too.”

“Yeah,” Jensen said with a tilt of his head. “But I’m the monster that’s gonna kill you.”

His sword was gone, but he didn't need it. Voracious need still thrummed in his bones, hungry, he was so _hungry_ , starving. He wrapped his hands around the pale column of her throat and yanked with the vortex inside him.

Power flooded him like throwing open a switch, rushing through his veins and the corridors of his mind like a tsunami. She was Veronique, everything in her known to him, so strong, inhuman and unlike anything else Jensen had ever tasted, raw power like a drug. He felt it like he'd never felt anything before: their essences overlapping, merging, pushing through, each a reflection of the other, two sides of the same coin and Jensen could have been her, there but for the grace of something divine. She was madness and might, darkness and rage that spoke to the Echo inside him, to the hidden words etched into his brain, dark with more than ink. He could feel them, nearly alive and pulsing in response to her presence, shivering with want and need to be spoken.

She changed then, essence flowing suddenly backward. Jensen felt her surprise as if it were his own, the snapping of her awareness from his as reality solidifed.

"You have it," the Twice-Born gasped, orange-red eyes widening on him. And then, incredibly, she stopped struggling. Instead of trying to pull his hands from her, she held more tightly to his wrists, urging him on. Her face split open in a smile as she hissed, "Let it be like this, then."

"Jensen!" Jared cried from somewhere outside them.

There came the muffled thuds of the others falling into the club, and then the roar of wind died as the portal sealed itself. Jensen scarcely noticed as he stared into the Twice-Born's eyes, lulled and drawn by what he saw there.

"Jensen!" Jared was almost shouting, so close to Jensen's ear as he knelt down, grabbing hold of Jensen's shoulder with desperate fingers.

She was all through him, written in a language like stars through the heavens and he was the sky, the two of them a tapestry weaving threads of existence together.

"Jensen." Jared's voice was soft, gentle, and Jensen fought through the pull of Veronique, unable to ignore that warmth.

Jensen struggled to tear his eyes from Veronique's, orange-red fire like wells of gravity, and with an effort, he looked away, meeting Jared's gaze. 

Jared gasped, and Jensen could see the orange-red fires of madness in Jared's eyes.

"Your eyes," Jared breathed, horrified, and then Jensen understood—he was seeing his own eyes reflected in Jared's. Jensen's eyes were the same as Veronique's, and that was good, that was right, that was how it was supposed to be. His blood sang with the rightness of it. 

"Jensen, you have to stop. You can't drain her. If you do, you become her."

Distantly, the words penetrated, and then Jared reached out, touching his face. The physical sensation gave Jensen a touch stone, and he focused on it even as Veronique pulled at him, weaving herself more deeply, deftly within him. Jensen tugged at the cords tying them together, trying to unknot himself from the skein they'd created, but he couldn't tell anymore where he began and she ended. Her body was withering beneath Jensen's hands, pale skin barely covering bone, flames in her eyes flickering and dying like embers.

"Jensen, please," Jared pleaded.

"I'm trying," Jensen's voice was a trembling whisper. "She won't…stop. I can't."

Veronique's life energy began to push into Jensen under her own power, as if she was forcing it into him, and it was too much, her awareness sliding over his like a helmet—

Jared buried a lead dagger in her right eye.

She screamed and let go of Jensen, flow of her essence cutting off like a faucet. Her remaining fiery eye fixed on Jared and she reached for him with both hands instead.

Jensen stretched to grab her wrists and stop her but she was too quick, fingers closing around Jared's face and _twisting_ —

The crack as Jared's neck snapped was incredibly loud.

Jensen's heart beat, his lungs drew breath, but the world slowed to a near standstill around him. He stared in disbelief as Jared's body went limp, slumping over.

There was an explosion like thunder as a gun discharged, and a bullet hole appeared in Twice-Born's forehead. Boom, boom, boom, another hole and another and another, and then the body beneath Jensen went still. It disintegrated, so much dust scattered across the floor, and beside Jensen, Xae stood, gun still pointed downward in her hand. 

He was barely aware of any of it, staring in horror at Jared's body laid out on the floor.

The gun clattered to the floor beside him as Xae went to her knees, and Jensen shoved her aside, grabbing Jared by the shoulders. Everything was happening like it was underwater, in slow motion; Alicia running and skidding across the floor on her knees to get to Jared.

Jared's head flopped unnaturally at the end of his neck as Jensen turned him over, pulling Jared's upper body into his lap. Alicia's fingers fumbled against Jared's throat, searching for a pulse. Jensen cradled Jared close, ignoring Alicia as her hand fell away and she curled into herself with a wail of anguish. He ignored the faces of everyone as they crowded around him, unable to hear anything except the beating of his own heart in his ears.

He reached down and frantically brushed the hair back from the gentle upward curve of Jared's cheek. Jared's lashes were dark, lying against his skin like dark smudges, his cheeks still flushed pink, and he looked as beautiful as he always had. He felt delicate, more frail, lying there in Jensen's arms, but his skin was still warm, muscles firm, as if at any moment he could take a breath, stir, those lashes fluttering, hazel eyes confused but warm as they focused on Jensen.

But he wouldn't, they wouldn't. Never, ever again.

Jensen was empty inside, numbness like wind rushing through him. He couldn't understand it, couldn't comprehend it.

"No. No, no, no," he whispered, crushing Jared tight against him. He buried his face in Jared's hair, inhaling the scent of him, and there had to be a way to fix this. Jared couldn't just be gone. He couldn't. Bright, pure, kind boy with more sweetness and bravery than sense sometimes, and he couldn't be gone. He couldn't be, because the world still needed him. The world still needed him and… and Jensen…

Jensen loved him.

Kneeling there, his face buried in Jared's hair, he heard a faint hum begin, felt it work over Jared's skin, and knew Jared was surrounded by the black and red energy of death.

Jensen broke then, shattering as a sob hitched up from deep inside his chest, tears brimming over in a sudden flood. Soul deep agony poured from him in rasping sobs like low screams, and it was a long time before he stopped, emptied of everything that had ever mattered.  
  


*    *    *  
  


Time passed, although it seemed that it shouldn't have. Jensen's face was stiff with salt and his vision was blurry, but not with tears. His sorrow hadn't gone, but his tears had ceased, body seeming to have finally run dry.

He knew that outside the fogged haze of his mind, someone had come and tried to take Jared from his arms. He didn't remember exactly what had happened then, but he knew he hadn't let go. The memory of lying Jared down on his bed was faint, pale, almost as if it had happened to someone else. More clearly he remembered arranging the pillows beneath Jared's head, strange sense of surreality filling him, the way Jared's lashes had looked almost waxen against his cheeks.

He only knew he was sitting down because there were people standing gathered in a circle around his bed. He was dimly aware that he knew them but he didn't let his eyes linger on them, didn't feel the need to name them and remember them. He didn't want to focus on the person lying on the bed, either, but even his grief-clouded mind couldn't manage to make him forget about that. Jared's body radiated black and red energy that barely registered in Jensen's slack gaze.

He was lost inside the landscape of his mind, scarcely aware of the person who knelt down in front of him. Alicia, his brain supplied, and he retreated even deeper, not wanting to hear whatever she had to say. He already knew the news. He knew Jared was dead. He knew it was his fault. He knew he should have tried harder, been stronger, moved faster. 

At the edge of his vision, Alicia's eyes were swollen, red and puffy from tears. "Jensen." Alicia drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I know you're in shock. But I just lost Jared. I can't lose you, too." She shook her head sadly. "I can't."

Jensen's gaze blurred, doubled, tripled and then gave out all together. He was drifting inward, carried on a wave of darkness, his thoughts set free, adrift as if on the wind, and he let it carry him away.

"Please come back." Alicia's voice echoed oddly and then faded away.

There was peace for a time, warmth, and silence. And then, slowly, he became aware again, as if his thoughts gathered themselves into form inside himself. It was hazy where he was, hazy and indistinct, but not uncomfortable. Within the haze, something moved. 

"You," he said.

The Valkyrie's skin was gray as volcanic ash, her eyes black holes, wings made of smoke that rippled.

"He died a warrior's death," the Valkyrie said, as if that were any sort of consolation.

He stared at her, sullen and wordless. Jared was gone. It didn't seem real. No matter which way Jensen came at it, it seemed like a lie, a nightmare, or a terrible fantasy concocted by someone very cruel. He knew it was true, but the reality of it seemed to escape him, hanging just beyond his reach. Jensen didn't mind; he was fine with it staying exactly where it was. Standing in the haze, he elected to ignore the Valkyrie as well, beginning to walk past her. 

She turned, watching him as he walked by. "You must take his soul," she said.

Jensen stopped cold, and the numbness inside him gave way to a single spark.

"No." Jensen shook his head, emphatic. "I won't."

He could feel the Valkyrie's eyes on him, those strange, alien eyes that held no emotion, only function. She had never known loss, she couldn't understand what it felt like for Jensen, and he decided again to ignore her, taking a step forward.

She spoke again in her melodious voice, "If you do not, then another will come to take it, soon."

That made him turn, a shower of sparks seeming to fire through him. Protective instinct rose up in Jensen, heartbeat increasing with the thought of another fight. Jensen didn't want anyone else touching Jared's soul—more than that, no one else was going to _take_ Jared's soul. "No," he said, defiant. "They won't." 

The Valkyrie tilted her head to regard him, and with the motion, golden light flowed over her features, ash colored skin warming to brown, black, alien eyes receding to normal brown irises. She looked a lot like Jensen had imagined Nikki had looked, and her wings flexed with thousands of silver knife blades. "You can do things other Legacies cannot, Jensen Ackles, but his soul must pass on. Even you cannot prevent that."

"Can't I?" Jensen asked, anger and ire beginning to take shape within him as he stepped closer to the apparition of the Valkyrie. Numbness gave way to desperate cunning as an idea struck him. "If I can take souls, then why can't I put them back?" It made sense. It made complete sense. He felt suddenly giddy and reckless, so deep was his certainty that he should be able to do what he'd said.

"Once a soul is taken, it cannot be put back. Not by us," the Valkyrie said, her tone severe.

She sounded so sure. He wondered if she knew who could. He wondered if the old gods could do it. It was an idle thought… mostly. But there was a part of him, some deep, dark, distant part that whispered to him with the tantalizing thought: if he set the old gods free, they could bring Jared back. He could make it his price for freeing them.

"What you contemplate is madness," the Valkyrie decreed, and he snapped from the thought, frowning lightly at her.

He realized then exactly what he had been contemplating, and how tempting the thought had been. Was he that selfish? Or was it the spell itself and its desire to be used that had prompted him? He couldn't condemn the entirety of humanity. Not even to save Jared.

"Then I'll have to do it another way." Hope had taken hold of him, breaking him from his paralyzed state. It was small, and it was thin, but it was _something_ —something that wasn't sorrow, something that wasn't loss, and he needed it. They lived in a supernatural world, a mythological world filled with magic and strange creatures with wondrous powers. There had to be a way, didn't there? Jared's soul was still in his body, but his life energy was gone. If Jensen could figure out a way to generate that energy…

Another thought struck him. He was the Echo, which meant he could drain life and power from others. Could he… was there a way he could work that in reverse? No one was even sure how his power worked. Maybe if he tried focusing it, he could create instead of destroy.

Jensen held out his hand, palm up, and looked down.

"Not like that," the Valkyrie said, frowning. "That is not a gift you can give."

Jensen looked at her, uncertain how she knew what he meant to do, and then he remembered they were both inside his mind. He wasn't entirely sure what he meant to do, himself, but he had a vague intuition. Working on instinct, he closed his palm and then opened it, and the air above his hand began to ripple like a heat wave, threads of light seeming drawn to the nexus above the loom of his fingers, twining together in a ball of mirrored silver and molten gold, forming a small, perfect core.

The Valkyrie stepped closer to him, looming over him with radiance. "You cannot do that."

"It's done," Jensen said, and even as he watched, the small core flashed once and assumed its final shape—an acorn grown deep brown and full. It was creation; it was life. "Perfect," he said reaching out to touch it, triumphant as it stilled, hovering in the air above his hand.

The acorn burst like a soap bubble as his fingertips touched it, its rotten insides exploding in a spray of black that hissed and boiled and burned like a living thing.

"You cannot create life. That is not your gift," the Valkyrie said, circling Jensen.

"My gift?" The way she'd said it implied that he had one, but that he'd simply tried the wrong one.

"You cannot create life from nothing," she replied.

He understood the surface logic of what the Valkyrie had said. He thought for a moment, and then he also understood what she had _not_ said. He couldn't create life. But he still had something he could give, didn't he?

"I can't create life from nothing, but there's a way, isn't there? A way I can give him life?"

The look she gave him was shrewd and admiring. "It will require sacrifice," she said.

"Anything," he replied.

The Valkyrie leaned close and whispered in his ear. 

Jensen felt his consciousness rushing upward as if through deep water, darkness growing murky and then lightening, lighter, lighter, as he approached the physical world where his throat ached and his side throbbed. Where Jared lay still and unmoving upon the bed and Alicia had wept silently. There was a moment where the world seemed to tilt, and then he felt himself settle back into his skin as if with a click.

Jensen's eyes popped open and he rose to his feet without hesitation. He was only vaguely aware that the room was empty except for Jared's body lying on the bed, and without hesitation, he walked to it. 

Jared looked pale beneath the red and black static, his body laid out carefully on the bed. Jensen could see flashes of bone through Jared’s skin and he tried not to focus on them, closed his eyes and imagined Jared whole and hearty and alive.

_What have you done with the power you stole? With the life you traded?_

He'd run, he'd hidden, terrified of himself. He had shamed himself and Nikki, squandering what he'd taken, using parlor tricks to get through life and carefully dodging responsibility. What had he done with the power he'd stolen? With the life he'd traded? Nothing. But he meant to do something with both, now.

He dug deep within himself for the Valkyrie as he had done only once before, and felt her form begin to take shape in the Meridian. He reached out with his mind, grasping hold of her, feeling her flow through his mental fingers like living flame, and focused, drawing her close to his body in the Prime like a lover.

_I've never used my power offensively in the Prime._

He stretched her across the frame of his bones, across the surface of his skin, feeling her merge together with him physically, thousands of tiny stitches like Wendy sewing Peter Pan's shadow back to him. Awareness slid over his and then merged with absolute clarity, the world made of sharp edges and glittering color, and as one, they took a breath.

Wings unfurled with a heavy flap and his skin erupted with flame, blinding light that exploded from his body and sucked the air from the room. Fire white and gold and tinting orange at the edges engulfed him, and he was incendiary, a conflagration of power, burning like the heart of creation itself.

The words the Valkyrie had whispered echoed inside him.

_"The Valkyrie have a secret gift, granted by the old gods themselves."_

He reached inside himself, parting the slats of his ribs, slipping past the steady beat of his heart, and gripped the sword handle nestled there. He drew it forth, the bloody silver blade igniting with liquid flame even as he felt his ribs close, the skin of his chest knit back together.

_"In return for all the lives a Valkyrie must take…"_

He was bursting with energy, heart pulsing in his chest, blood coursing through his body, electrons firing in his brain, the ethereal essence of his soul still tethered to flesh.

_"…they are permitted to give one back. Just one."_

He wrapped both hands around the sword hilt, holding the handle high above his head, and then he reversed the direction of the blade, resettling his grip as he positioned it over Jared.

_"But for this gift, the Valkyrie must give their own life."_

Fire danced over his lips as he said, "Then for this, I die."

He thrust downward, plunging his sword into Jared's chest with the force of all his power behind it. It came alive with sudden motion as it pierced Jared, morphing and changing—sword, branch, writhing serpent—and then it exploded in a pillar of golden flame.

Jensen's head snapped back and his arms flew wide, spine arching, nerves like a tiny million live wires as they jittered inside his skin, flame crackling all around him, consuming him, drawing his essence downward in brilliant white light. Time seemed to slow to a crawl in the world outside as the light took him without gentleness or forgiveness, laying his soul bare, raw and exposed. Everything that comprised him was pulled as if through the eye of a needle, thoughts and will and desires, and he let them go, gladly. He could never change what he’d done to Nikki, but he could honor her memory by using her power to give his own life. The power he had stolen, the life he had traded; he would give them both, give everything he had left, for this. For Jared.

His life poured out through the connection to the sword buried in Jared's chest, and he could feel his heartbeat slow, his lungs falter and struggle to draw breath. Every atom of his body rioted in pain, and he could almost feel the Prime trying to resist his manifestation, nerves singing agony, muscles twitching and convulsing. The blazing fire over his skin flickered, guttering low, flames traveling like liquid toward the blade, absorbed into Jared's body before they disappeared. He grit his teeth and tried not to scream as his wings burned, fire licking over feathers and reducing them to curls of ash, and then the bones crumpled like paper, sucked back beneath the skin. It seemed to go on forever, long seconds stretching out like years, and Jensen slowly died with every single one, feeling the rightness of it settle over him.

He was emptying; rooms of his mind swept clean, blood in his veins sluggish and halting, soul ragged and failing. The sword burned bright white, superheated, and then diminished to the brilliant yellow of the sun, and finally to the glowing orange of embers before the metal blackened and cracked, pieces beginning to fall away in smoking chunks. His heart stuttered, stumbled out an erratic thump, and then it ceased to beat.

_-You were a worthy warrior, Jensen Ackles.-_

The Valkyrie's voice faded, a spiral of sound that flew away from him, and the last of the golden light on his skin shivered, drawn like smoke to the ruin of the sword. It slithered down the length and then vanished into Jared. The sword crumbled, disintegrating into charred dust, and a moment later, even that was gone.

It was the last thing Jensen saw.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Legacies did not truly know what came before the old gods, before the birth of dimensions and worlds.

Some Legacies believed there was a force even more ancient than the old gods. Those Legacies believed that force had given birth to the old gods, and that it was a power that still existed to that day. In a time when written word was still young, this idea was old among the Legacies, and they called this force by a name which could only be translated in the present as 'Unsu'.

Some Legacies said the universe was once filled with unimaginable horrors, and the old gods were the universe's answer to creating balance. But then, they said, the old gods killed all those creatures and destroyed the balance, and it was for this they were locked away.

And some Legacies thought everything was created by the old gods, that the old gods were birthed from a void, and they, in turn, created the universe. That before the old gods there existed Nothing: not darkness, not emptiness, not even silence. Those Legacies believed Nothing was the state all Legacies returned to when they died. The old gods had come from Nothing, therefore the Legacies had come from Nothing, and to Nothing, they would all return.

Although many Legacies held these different beliefs fervently, none of them knew the truth. Even those who had died and somehow returned could not remember where they had been.

Jensen did not know that he was dead. Whether he went to the Nothing, or somewhere else that was too complex for a Legacy mind to grasp, or he waited between worlds did not matter. He was completely unaware of his state. He didn't exist in any form he understood.

And then there came a sound.

_Lum_

It seemed a strange sound, dyssynchronous, but it drew his attention. It wasn't conscious thought that drew him, but a return of burgeoning awareness, primitive instinct.

_Lum_

The sound seemed very far away, and he felt lazy, too tired to go toward it. In a dim way, he understood there was something like sleep behind him, and its call was louder, its pull stronger.

_Lum_

Everything was dark and he felt slow, sluggish and reluctant. Whatever was behind him sucked at his awareness like thick mud against his feet.

_Lum     Lum_

There came a long pause, the sensation of rushing forward, and then—

_Lum BUMP_

His heart shuddered out a full beat and he gasped, sucking air into his lungs, eyes flying open.

_Lum bump, lum bump_

"Jensen!" Alicia's face hovering over his was the first thing he saw, tears staining her dark cheeks, her mouth and eyes wide. "Oh my god, Jensen," she gasped with relief and bent to kiss his forehead. "I thought we lost you."

Jensen's mind struggled, pulling from the brackish feel of something deeper than sleep. He didn't remember what had happened, didn't understand why he was on the floor with Alicia bending over him.

And then there came another voice. "Jensen?"

Alicia gasped and fell away from Jensen, scrambling backward across the floor, away from the sound. As he sat up, he was aware of the others that had stood, surrounding him, as they stumbled backward as well. Sitting up, he turned his head and looked at the bed beside him.

"Jensen," Jared breathed and lunged for him.

As Jared's arms wrapped around his shoulders, Jensen remembered. He remembered fighting the Twice-Born, remembered Jared dying, the way he'd retreated inside his head with the Valkyrie, and how he'd given up his own life.

"It worked," Jensen gasped in disbelief, nearly breathless as he wrapped his arms around Jared and hugged him as hard as he could. "Jared, you're alive." Jensen drew back, looking Jared in the eye, needing to see him. Tears of joy and amazement filled Jensen's eyes as he stared at Jared, strange sound caught between relief and pain catching in his chest. He didn't understand how it could have worked if he was still alive. The Valkyrie had told him it was an even trade, a life for a life.

But there were those beautiful, kind hazel eyes staring back at him, tears welling at the edges of Jared's lashes, too.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jensen admitted, voice and hand hands trembling.

"What happened?" Jared asked.

Jensen needed a moment, overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions as he stared at Jared, warm and breathing and alive. There would be time to explain, right then he just needed to feel Jared, and he pulled him in, kissing him hard on the lips. The taste of salt mingled with the taste of Jared as Jensen's tears finally fell, Jensen holding his breath and feeling his heart beat.

"Jensen…" Alicia's voice was a terrified whisper. "Jensen, what did you do?"

The fear in her voice stopped him, pulled him from the moment, and he drew back from Jared with one more look into those eyes before he turned his head.

Behind him, Alicia was backed to the wall, hands planted against the floor on either side of her, as if she would have scuttled further backward if she could have. Her whole body was filled with tension, muscles coiled and ready to spring, eyes wide. The body language of the others in the room was similar, Crystal, Lex, and Lazaro backed several steps backward from Jared and Jensen, staring in disbelief. 

"I… I brought him back," Jensen said simply as he met Alicia's eyes.

"I brought _you_ back," Alicia contradicted, her voice shaking. "Your heart stopped and I gave you CPR… his _neck was broken_ . His _spinal column was severed_." Alicia turned her head back and forth, slow, eyes never leaving Jensen. "You don't bring people back from that." 

"The Valkyrie," Jensen began, uncertain how to explain. "She… she told me I could trade my life for his. A life for a life, one time." Jensen paused, realizing the contradiction inherent in what he'd said, and then it struck him: he wasn't a Valkyrie, not truly, and he had never been. He'd traded the Valkyrie's life for Jared's, and very nearly his own, but the cost had been paid by the Valkyrie.

Jensen reached within his mind, calling out to the Valkyrie, and only silence answered him.

"She's gone," he whispered in wonder. "Her life for Jared's."

Alicia's alarm turned to uncertainty after Jensen spoke, and she seemed to relax fractionally. "Is it… is it really him?" she asked.

Jensen got it; people didn't just come back from the dead. He wouldn't have believed it himself if he hadn't had the experience of nearly giving his life for Jared's. And after what they'd all been through in the Umbra, Jensen could understand why she was not just awed, but afraid. Behind Jensen, Jared rose from the bed, feet settling to the floor, and he walked to where Alicia was huddled against the wall, kneeling when he reached her.

"It's me," Jared said as he looked at her.

Alicia stared at him, seeming frozen for a moment, and then she nearly launched from the wall as she threw her arms around Jared, crushing him close as she burst into tears.

Jared's arms came up around her and held her tight, and he bent his head, whispering something into her ear. They held each other for a long time, and when Alicia finally let go, giving Jared a last kiss on the cheek, Crystal walked to him, tentatively putting a hand on his shoulder. Jared turned and rose, pulling her into a long hug, cheek resting against the top of her head.

When she finally stepped back and Jared released her, Lex angled his face to one side as he regarded Jared.

"We're not going to hug," Jared told him, and a shaky laugh escaped Jensen.

"Not even if your life depended on it," Lex said, derisive as he exhaled a quick, scoffing breath.

Xae threw her arms around Jared and hugged him tight for a moment before she let go. Then Lazaro stepped forward and took Jared's hand, shaking it momentarily before he pulled him into a one-armed hug that seemed filled with more camaraderie than emotion. Lazaro patted Jared on the back once and stepped back, letting go as he said, "Welcome back, man."

"Yeah," Jared said and nodded slowly. "Thanks." He looked around the room then, from face to face until his eyes finally settled on Jensen. "I'm not sure… what exactly happened?"

Jensen climbed from the floor and sat on the bed, then made a motion to invite Jared to sit with him. Jared walked over and sat, and Jensen linked his hand through Jared's, squeezing hard and holding tight. He could still hardly believe Jared was back, and he wasn't sure he was going to let go for the next few days, if ever.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Jensen asked, gentle.

"Putting a knife in the Twice-Born's eye." Jared hesitated and then looked startled. "Is she dead? Did we win?"

"She's dead." Jensen nodded, and saw Jared relax again. He swallowed hard and then forced out the next words. "But she… she snapped your neck before Xae put four bullets in her head and ended her."

There was a long silence as Jared stared at him. "I… I was really dead?" Jared seemed stunned. 

"You were," Jensen said as he squeezed Jared's fingers laced through his. "But I brought you back."

"Jensen…" Jared's head turned back and forth, his expression disbelieving. "How?"

Jensen took a breath, feeling his lungs fill, feeling his heart beat inside his chest, feeling Jared sitting next to him, and was immensely grateful. He took a moment just to feel it, and then he began to speak, addressing the room.

"The Valkyrie told me all Valkyries had a secret gift, that for all the lives they took, they could give one back, just once. I manifested my Valkyrie power in the Prime," Jensen said, and from across the room, Lex's pale eyes locked on his with knowing.

"Jensen." Xae's voice was reproving.

Jensen nodded in acknowledgement of her condemnation. "I thought… I thought maybe since it was a passive power, it wouldn't do damage. And it didn't seem to." The room hadn't caught on fire, and the Prime hadn't been harmed as far as he could tell. All that had happened was the transference of life. "And then I shoved my sword into Jared's chest and I felt… I felt her go. All of her power drain out of me through the sword into Jared."

"It almost killed you, too," Alicia said softly. "I heard something like an explosion and when I got to the room you were dead on the floor. We didn't know what happened. I gave you CPR and for a minute I thought you weren't coming back… but then you did." 

"Thanks for saving me," Jensen told her, and she gave him a tremulous smile. 

"Wait," Crystal spoke up, sounding confused. "If you used the Valkyrie to bring Jared back… does that mean Jared's a Valkyrie now?"

Jensen hadn't even considered that as a possibility. Thrown, he looked at Jared, who looked just as startled.

It was Lex who answered. "No. That would be impossible. Legacy powers can't be passed around that way—and certainly not to a normal human. The only reason Jensen was a Valkyrie was because the Echo in him allowed him to take that power from another Legacy. Jared has no such ability."

"The Valkyrie is gone," Jensen said after a moment. "I'm… I'm just the Echo now."

It occurred to Jensen then that the Echo wasn't the only other thing he'd had inside him. Jensen poked at the secret walled up in his mind like poking a stick at a bear, tentative and hopeful that it wouldn't bite him. He tried to think about it and his mind slid away from it, like oil sliding off teflon. That was how he knew it was still there. It hadn't been damaged in the transfer to Jared. That was good. Well… it was better than the alternative.

"I'm just glad you're here." Jared leaned in and hugged him tight and Jensen wrapped his arms around Jared, relief coursing through him all over again at the feel of Jared's warmth, the feel of his body expanding with breath.

After a moment, he heard someone stir, and he looked around as Alicia said, "You two probably want some time alone." 

Everyone looked tired and drained, but no one looked like they were ready to depart yet. Jensen felt like he'd gotten run over by a truck and dragged for ten miles, but he was _starving_ and he guessed everyone else was too. 

"Anyone else hungry?" Jensen asked.

Nods came from all around and Alicia said, "I'll order some pizza." She looked at Jared and Jensen then. "Don't be too long, you two," she added with a smile.

"I'm gonna make cookies," Crystal announced, and then pointed at Lex. "And you're gonna help me."

"What?" Lex frowned. "Why me?"

"Because it's _funny_ ," Crystal replied.

Xae laughed at that and one by one they began to file from the room. Jensen heard someone shut the door behind them, but he was too busy turning to look at Jared to notice which one of them it had been.

"How are you?" Jared asked in a whisper, wrapping his arms around Jensen and pressing his forehead to Jensen's.

Jensen pushed upward, pressing his lips to Jared's and smiled. "A lot better now."

"Are you sure?" Jared asked, running his hands down Jensen's back. "Because out of the two of us, you're the wounded one here."

 "Don't forget, out of the two of us, I'm the one who's superhuman," Jensen replied and grinned. His grin faded as he ran his fingers through Jared's hair, coming to rest on the back of Jared's neck. "How about you? How do you feel?"

"I feel…" Jared paused, as if surveying himself, and then shook his head. "I feel fine. Good as ever."

"You _look_ gorgeous," Jensen told him, smiling.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Jared replied with a grin, and then he leaned to kiss Jensen.

Jensen's lips parted, eager as he welcomed Jared in, tongue swiping against Jared's before they twined in a slick twirl, circling sweet and then with more intensity as they both laid down on their sides against the bed. Jared was alive, and suddenly Jensen needed to feel him—feel _all_ of him—make sure he was really there, really okay. And maybe, just maybe, he needed to make sure _he_ was still alive, too. Jensen deepened the kiss and reached for the hem of Jared's shirt, fingers slipping beneath the material, skimming the smoothness of skin there.

"Do you think we have time?" Jared asked as he drew back.

"I think we'll make time," Jensen replied. He stared at Jared, those hazel eyes burning back into Jensen, and Jensen kissed Jared again. He let his lips slide away then, planting a kiss against Jared's jaw, dragging his mouth down to the line of Jared's pulse and licking a careful line along the vein. He could hear Jared's breath catch and Jensen drew back, felt his cock harden with the sudden heat darkening Jared's eyes. 

Jensen moved them so he was lying half on top of Jared, hips rocking against Jared's thigh. He could feel the light tremor that ran through Jared's body, and then Jared pushed up into him with a raw, hungry sound, mouth searing hot as it opened and he kissed Jensen hard. Mouths locked together, their hands rushed, clumsy as they pushed and pulled each other from their clothes, trying to touch each other everywhere at once. Jared kissed Jensen again, deep and sweet, and pushed him back against the bed. 

"You are gorgeous," Jared said, eyes following the pattern of his hands over Jensen's body, and Jensen shivered, felt his heart speed up. Jared pressed his lips to Jensen's raised knee, kissed down the inside, hands roaming over Jensen's skin. He dipped his head then, lips locking around the head of Jensen's cock, and Jensen gave a full-bodied shudder, arching up into the sensation. Jared sucked down the length, tongue unfurling down the vein and Jensen's eyes rolled back in his head as Jared squeezed the base of Jensen's cock with his hand, muscles in the back of Jared's throat fluttering involuntarily, convulsing around the crown. 

Jared pulled back before he choked, tongue flicking against the bundle of nerves beneath the head, twisted his neck and drove downward again before Jensen could catch his breath. Jensen wound his fingers through the long strands of Jared's hair, not pushing, just holding on for dear life as Jared sucked him for all he was worth. Slow, long slides up and down, and then Jared took him hard fast, rhythm speeding up until Jensen felt his stomach swoop and his balls tighten, heat rising in his belly. With an effort, he pulled Jared away from his cock, not wanting to come yet. 

Jared looked up at him, cheeks flushed, lips dark pink, swollen and shiny with spit, panting slightly, and he was the most beautiful thing Jensen had ever seen. Jensen pulled Jared up his body, skin slipping and sliding with light sweat, and kissed him deeply.

Hot feel of Jared's mouth against his, Jared's lips so sinfully sweet against Jensen's, mouth so plush and full. Jared made a tiny sound and Jensen felt it like a shot through the heart. The heat of Jared's body, made whole and real again, living, _breathing_ into him, and Jensen needed to know, needed to feel it _all_. Still kissing him, Jensen turned them over so that he was on top of Jared, and then drew back, looking at Jared spread out underneath him.

Jensen's fingers touched Jared's skin, running over the familiar landscape, the delineating lines of muscle, the dip and curve of bone. Jensen wanted to taste it all; every inch of skin, the dark pink circles of Jared's nipples, the long, full length of his cock. He let his tongue curl, licking a trail along Jared's collarbone with the taste of sweat, palms pressing Jared's shoulders into the bed. Jared shivered, hands tightening against Jensen's skin.

"I wanna take my time…" Jensen breathed, body arching against Jared's. His hips rolled into Jared's, their cocks rubbing together with blissful friction that sent a rush of heat from Jensen's dick to his belly. "But I can't wait."

Their mouths slid together, hot and wet, Jared pressed up all against him, and Jensen could barely stand the moment he had to pull away, reaching for the lube and condoms in his drawer. He poured lube into his palm, cool and slick and glistening in webs between his fingers. It was warm by the time he circled his fingertip over Jared's hole, and Jared's hips hitched off the mattress, hiss of breath escaping him as he arched into the touch. His cock glided against Jared's belly, leaving behind a wet trail of pre come, and he pushed his finger inside, breaching the tight ring of muscle. He slid in slowly at first, then crooked and rubbed, fingertip curling, just barely brushing against the spot that made Jared's hips fly up from the bed, grinding into Jensen's hand.

Jensen groaned at the sudden pressure that trapped his cock between their stomachs, pushing into the feel, hot, velvety skin slipping and catching against Jared's skin. Mouths fused together as he worked another finger inside Jared, curling and stretching before he pushed in another. Jared thrust upward into the feel, and Jensen thought he might come just watching Jared, muscular body rippling, coiling and straining, stretching to take even more.

Jared fucked himself on Jensen's fingers with jagged shudders of his hips until Jensen's whole body was flushing hot, skin tight, cock rock hard and leaking against Jared. He tugged his fingers from Jared and rolled the condom down the length of his dick, and then he fisted his cock with lube, palm gliding up under Jared's knee.

He fell against Jared then, cock head pushing up between Jared's legs. Jared rose to meet his thrust, hot, tight hole closing around the head of Jensen's dick. Jared felt incredible, perfect, and Jensen slid deep inside him with a long push. Jared's fingernails dug into Jensen's shoulders as he hissed, whole body quivering, and then he began to move, riding Jensen's cock from underneath, and Jensen almost lost control completely at the sight and feel.

They moved together with give and take, bodies sweating out against the bed, skin sticking together, mouths melded together, more desperate now, teeth clashing, tongues thrusting as hard as the rest of them. It felt perfect, just the two of them, no space between them, nowhere for anything to hide, just skin to skin, hips locked together, bodies rippling in unison until Jensen could barely tell where Jared ended and he began, both of them alive and breathing.

"I thought I lost you." Jensen whispered the words into Jared's ear, lips brushing against skin, hips picking up speed as he drove into Jared. "Without you… I couldn't…" he pounded into Jared, teeth scraping along Jared's pulse. "I didn't want…" he took Jared with quick, sharp thrusts, "to keep going." 

"Jensen." Jared made a choked sound and Jensen kissed him quick, tried to steal the sob trapped in Jared's throat that would have broken both of them both if it got free. Thundering of his heart in time with his rhythm, and everything narrowed to that moment, to the connection between them, Jared's rapid breaths and the way he held onto Jensen, nails biting the skin of Jensen's shoulder, mouths melting together, rough and sweet. Words rose, welling on the tip of Jensen's tongue—words he hadn't known he'd understood until Jared had been gone—and he burned with the need to say them to Jared in that moment. 

He broke the kiss and drew back, still thrusting into Jared.

"I love you," Jensen whispered, looking Jared straight in the eye.

Jared went completely still, hips ceasing to move against Jensen's, red-kissed lips parted for breath. And then he smiled and said, "Of course you do."

Jensen laughed and kissed him again, fast and hard as he sped up the rhythm until he was drilling into Jared, Jared's body clutching Jensen's cock, hands slipping against Jensen's skin. He bit the red swell of Jared's mouth and twisted his hips, hitting the sweet spot on his way down, plunging deep and hard and fast. Jared stiffened, arching underneath him, crying out and shuddering violently with pleasure. Jensen barely slowed as he reached down between them, fingers closing around Jared's dick and squeezing from base to crown in one quick motion. 

Jensen jerked his wrist and twisted his hips, and Jared went completely still, every muscle in his body locking down and clenching tight. His body squeezed Jensen's dick like a fist, cock streaking both their bellies with come. Jared was gorgeous as he came, head thrown back against the pillow, spine arched, pink mouth wide open and eyes shut tight, every bit of him given up to Jensen. He looked amazing, so alive, skin flushed, and Jensen's heart squeezed, wrenched painfully inside his chest.

Jensen closed his eyes against the sight, face falling against Jared's shoulder, teeth seizing the skin there as he came inside the impossibly tight clench of Jared's ass, hips moving with ragged, uneven thrusts. His orgasm hit him with the force of a cyclone, ripping through him with pleasure that bordered on too much, picking him up and spinning him around until he was gasping against Jared's throat, muscles trembling as his cock pulsed with one last, weak twitch.

Jensen just laid there for a long moment, feeling the pulse of Jared's heartbeat pounding against his, rising and falling with Jared's ragged breathing, one hand sliding to curl around Jared's hip, other pressed against Jared's chest as he gasped for breath. Aftershocks quivered through both of them like tiny earthquakes, shivers of pleasure working through Jensen and passed back and forth between them until at last, they both stilled.

"That was…" Jared said and exhaled loudly.

Jensen nodded against Jared's chest and Jared reached down, fingers catching beneath Jensen's chin. He lifted Jensen's face until Jensen was looking at him, and Jensen couldn't help but smile at the sight of Jared, his hair wet with sweat, long strands sticking to his cheeks, pupils blown wide and his lips stretched in a satisfied smile.

"So all I had to do was die to get you to admit you loved me?" Jared asked, playful.

The words struck Jensen with a deep stab of guilt and he could feel his sorrow trying to surface again. "Don't," Jensen said with a shake of his head, the memory still too painful.

"Hey. It's okay," Jared whispered and kissed Jensen's lips. "I'm here. Right here."

Jensen kissed him back for a moment, reveling in the solid realness of him, and then pulled away to look at him again.

"I can't believe you almost died for me," Jared remarked, voice low. "Your life is way more important than mine."

"Not as far as I'm concerned," Jensen said, returning Jared's gaze levelly.

Jared just looked at him in silence for a moment, and then finally he nodded. He took a breath in a way that said he was going to change the subject, and Jensen thought that was just as well. He didn't want to dwell on their deaths.

"So your Valkyrie is really gone?" Jared asked.

Jensen nodded. "It's weird, being in my head alone."

"The Echo doesn't talk to you?" Jared asked with a slight frown.

"No. I'm pretty sure normal Legacies don't have a voice in their head that talks to them. I think the only reason I could talk to her was because I stole her, so she existed separately from me."

Jared pursed his lips, brows rising as if to say, 'I guess'.

Jensen thought for a moment, and then he said, "I'm sorry I don't have my wings anymore. I know how much you loved them." 

Jared huffed out a brief laugh and shrugged. "I'd rather be alive."

"Me too," Jensen breathed, and kissed him again.

"I love you, too, Jensen," Jared said when they broke apart, and ran his fingers through the short length of Jensen's hair, smiling.

"You'd better," Jensen said and smirked. 

Their phones dinged loudly in succession then, and Jensen could guess who it was. With a sigh, he pulled his cock carefully from Jared and peeled off the condom, tying it into a knot before tossing it into the trash can. Both of them dug through their pile of clothes on the floor until they found their phones, and Jensen saw he was right. It was Alicia texting them to tell them the pizza had arrived.

"I don't think we have time for a shower," Jensen remarked, suddenly wanting a shower very badly. After making his way through the Umbra, fighting the Twice-Born, nearly dying and having amazing sex, he felt worn out and filthy.

"We can clean up in the sink," Jared said, scooping up his clothes.

They both washed up briefly in the sink, and then dressed. Jared looked in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair until it fell right against his face. Jensen reached out, smoothing Jared's hair back behind one ear and Jared smiled, leaning to kiss him quickly. "Hurry," Jared urged in a whisper. "I'm starving."

Jensen chuckled and smacked Jared on his jean-clad ass as he exited the bathroom. He turned to the mirror himself, then, cutting the faucet back on and letting his fingers sit beneath the flow. He ran wet fingers through the short strands of his hair, sweeping them upward into little spikes. There was still enough gel in his hair that it held its shape well enough, and he wet his hands again before he cut off the water, checking his face in the mirror. He ran his hands over his face, dampening it to refresh himself, and rubbed his fingers beneath his eyes.

In the mirror, a dark spot on the back of his hand drew his eye. He looked down at his hand, thinking it was probably a stubborn smudge he'd carried back from the Umbra, and brushed his fingers over it. For an instant, the dark spot seemed to wriggle beneath the skin, coursing along the line of his vein. Jensen rubbed it again and brought his hand closer to his face, squinting at it, and saw nothing.

"Jensen?" Jared called out.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," he called back. He looked at his hand again and the skin seemed normal. He stared at it for a moment and then huffed out a breath and shook his head, letting his hand fall to his side.

He must have been more tired than he thought.

He shook off the thought and went to join Jared and the others.  
  


*    *    *  


They all fell upon the pizzas like vultures, devouring wide wedges dripping cheese and covered in pepperoni. Jensen was eating his fourth slice when Crystal excused herself to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned with a tray of chocolate chip cookies which she placed on the table they were all gathered around.

"Well," Lex said as he rose from his chair. "As wonderful as this has all been…" 

"You're leaving?" Crystal asked, tilting her head at him. "But we made cookies. You have to eat some—you helped make them."

Jensen blinked at that as he swallowed another bite of pizza. "She actually convinced you to bake?" he asked, incredulous.

Lex cut him a sidelong glare and then gave Crystal a slight smile. "I'll wrap some to take with me."

"I'll get you a bag," Crystal said and hopped up.

A few minutes later, Lex was carrying a small brown bag filled with cookies. He leaned forward in a slight bow toward the table and then stood at his full height. "I'd say it's been fun, but it hasn't. So I'll just say 'goodbye'," he said, tone light, and then he looked at Jensen. "May I have a moment of your time? Alone?"

Jensen took another quick bite of crust and patted Jared's leg to let him know he'd be right back. Jared looked as though he might say something, but then he merely took another bite of his own pizza crust and settled for watching them walk away, instead.

Outside, the night air was cold, sending a chill chasing through Jensen. He'd left his motorcycle jacket upstairs after Jared had stripped him out of it. He rubbed his hands together briskly and walked a few steps down the block with Lex. It was so late that all the clubs were closed, streets quiet except for a few people who straggled along the block, perhaps looking for somewhere to eat.

"So you don't want to stay, be part of the team?" Jensen asked Lex, teasing.

"I'm not the 'team' type," Lex said in a dry tone. 

"Excuse me while I pretend to be shocked," Jensen said and rolled his eyes.

"Jensen." Lex stopped walking and turned toward him. "I don't know what we talked about that first time, when you took my memory. But I know if I let you take the memory, then it must have been dangerous for me to know. _Extremely_ dangerous."

"Wait…" Jensen blinked at him several times. "You're saying if it had been _advantageous_ for you to know you wouldn't have let me take it?"

"Evil," Lex said simply, and shrugged. He didn't linger over the statement as he said, "I don't know what we discussed, but I can guess what it may have had to do with." The look he fixed Jensen with was somber. "I don't think I need to tell you to be careful, do I?"

Jensen pushed his hands into his jean pockets and shook his head.

"Good," Lex said, and then his expression softened slightly and he smiled at Jensen, close-lipped. "It has been interesting, Jensen Ackles. And don't take this the wrong way… but I hope we never meet again."

"Is that your way of saying you hope my life will be uneventful from here on out?" Jensen asked with a tilt of his head.

Lex looked at him for a long moment without saying anything, that smile playing about his lips. "I suppose you could look at it that way." He leaned in then, before Jensen knew what he was about, and kissed Jensen on the cheek. The brush of his lips was gentle and brief, but firm. "Have a wonderful life, Jensen," he whispered and then drew back. 

Jensen watched Lex walk down the street away from the club until he disappeared around a corner in the distance, and then he stood there, hands still jammed in his pockets as he breathed in the chill night air.

"You, too," Jensen said.

  


  
[ ](https://ibb.co/jtd3Yd)

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

*    *    *  


When Jensen returned to his seat inside the club, there was a sense of expectation in the air.

"So what now?" Alicia asked as she picked up a chocolate chip cookie.

They were all looking at Jensen, and he marveled again at the fact that he'd somehow become the leader of this group. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. It was a valid question: they'd beaten the Twice-Born, kicked the bad guys' ass, and that was the end of that. There were some things that were still potentially worrisome, but there was nothing looming over them on the horizon.

"We beat the Twice-Born, I think that’s enough for now,” Jensen said, looking at each one of their faces in turn.

"I'm returning to the Coalescence," Xae announced, and every head in the room turned to look at her. "If Tenth was allowing the Twice-Born to pursue the Retro Partum knowingly, then they may decide to go about finding it another way.”

"Xae, are you sure?" Lazaro asked.

Xae nodded once. "One of us should be there, just in case."

 "They won't be suspicious?" Jared asked. "That you came back after they abandoned you?"

"I'm a purebred Qilin, my entire family line has been Coalescence born and bred. And I've been Tenth's personal bodyguard for many years now. My life and loyalty has been devoted to the Coalescence and our Auctoritas since I was born. People would think it more odd if I did _not_ return."

Jensen thought about that for a moment and then nodded. "You're right. I hate to see you go back there, but you're right."

Xae gave him a look that said, 'duh', and Jensen chuckled.

"Lazaro?" Jensen asked. "What about you?"

Lazaro leaned back in his chair, one tattooed forearm draped across the table. "I'm _not_ going back to the Coalescence. Which means I need to find another job, but it is what it is."

"How do you feel about bouncing?" Jared asked leaning across the table. "Angel quit after the Twice-Born busted in here the other night. I could use someone in security."

Lazaro seemed to think that over for a moment and then he nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Good. Also, we've got a lot of reading to do," Jared said with a look at Jensen. "A lot of studying about how all this works."

"And powers to learn about," Crystal put in.

Jensen nodded his agreement. "So we study, we learn, we keep running the club, and kick the asses of anyone who gives us trouble."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Alicia agreed.

Xae rose then and walked around the table to Jensen, whom she then hugged close. She stood up on her tiptoes and whispered 'thank you' into Jensen's ear, and then she made her goodbyes to everyone else. She was still pale, and there were still bruises and cuts on her skin, but she looked strong and fine as she passed through the door that would take her back to her apartment.

"I'm heading out, too," Lazaro said and rose from the table. Somehow, he still looked impeccable in his black vest and tie with his white shirt rolled up to the elbows. He had a few scratches, but otherwise, he looked as perfect as he had before they'd gone into the Umbra. Jensen noticed Lazaro give Crystal a quizzical look before he made his goodbyes.

For her part, Crystal seemed enraptured by whatever Alicia was murmuring to her, and Jensen watched them wonderingly. He would have sworn they were flirting, but he'd been so sure Crystal was straight. He remembered, then, what Crystal had said about her and Alicia being separated from the group for a while in the Umbra, and the look the two of them had shared. Whatever had happened must have brought them closer together than even they had expected. Maybe Crystal had thought she was straight, too, he concluded, and left it at that.

"We're… gonna go for a walk," Crystal said as she rose from the table.

Jared glanced at Jensen with a smile and then they both looked at Crystal and Alicia.

"Have fun," Jensen said.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do twice," Jared added and winked at them.

Alicia rolled her eyes at them both, and then took Crystal's hand in hers as they walked away toward the door.

As the door fell shut, Jared rose from his seat and took Jensen's hand, pulling him up.

"So it looks like it's just the two of us," Jared said as he pulled Jensen into an embrace, hands wrapping around Jensen's waist. He followed up the statement with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

"Again? You're kidding, right?" Jensen asked, arching a brow at him in return. "I'm so exhausted I'm going to sleep for three days."

"Sleep after?" Jared asked.

Jensen sighed and pretended to think it over. "Okay. But you drive a hard bargain, Boy Wonder."

"That's not the only thing that's gonna be driving hard," Jared said and chuckled.

Jensen laughed and shook his head. "That's what _she_ said."

Jared laughed in return, and then he said, "If you're really that tired, we can sleep.”

"Nah. I was teasing. I don't think I could ever get enough of you."

"You were right. We _are_ gross." Jared beamed at him.

Jensen laced his fingers together behind Jared's neck and leaned up to kiss him, feeling his heart swell in his chest. "I'm okay with that," Jensen said with a smile.

"You'd damned well better be," Jared told him and grinned.

After they broke apart, Jared shut off the lights in the club and locked the door, and together, they walked up the stairs.

As they reached the landing, it occurred to Jensen that he had a home for the first time in more than a decade. That he was safe, and cared for. He didn't know what the future held, and he would need to be careful. He still had the Retro Partum tucked away in his head, and the power of the Echo could still get beyond his control, but right then he felt comfortable and happy and more loved than he had in a very long time.

He pulled Jared tight against him and kissed him, thinking that he planned to enjoy it.

  
  
  


FINIS

art by [nisaki chan](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/post/176038843719/i-had-a-wonderful-time-working-with-nyxocity-and)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was an absolute pleasure working with nisaki-chan on this! She did SO MUCH art and it's all so gorgeous! I really couldn't be more grateful to her for bringing the characters to life and making them even more beautiful than they were in my head!
> 
> Silver9mm was an amazing beta and very patient with me as I churned out this story chapter by chapter.
> 
> I owe both of them huge thanks! Thank you both so much! And as always, thanks to all of you who make Big Bang possible every year!
> 
> To my readers, I really hope you enjoyed this story. It was a LOT of very hard work to conceive this universe and work it into something understandable, and there was much hair tearing on my end. I came up with the initial concept two years ago and I'm proud of myself for following through and finishing this (which is really just the first in a series, honestly). I'm very pleased with how it turned out in the end and I hope you, are too! (: Thank you so much for reading and I would LOVE to hear what you think or answer any questions!


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